The Long Regeneration
by MountainLord-92
Summary: Regeneration is a complicated process. They are never the same, sometimes they are relatively painless and other times they make the time lord suffer. This time it wont stop. The Doctor has to find out what is happening to him, before the assassins strike
1. prologue

**Author's note: I have been a fan of Doctor Who for a very long time and have thought of many adventures that the Doctor could take part in. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. It stars a future Doctor, several thousand years and a few regenerations down the line, so it is not necesarily an alternative universe (until the BBC catch up obviously), and his companion who have already face many trials together.  
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**Full Summary: Regeneration is a complicated process. They are never the same, sometimes they are relatively painless and other times they make the time lord suffer. This time it wont stop. Weeks after the supposed 15 hour period and the aftershocks keep coming. The Doctor has to keep going, facing the trials of his everyday life (saving the universe over and over) whilst trying to find out what is happening to him; before assassins, sent by the one enemy who has given up waiting, kill him for good. How can his companion cope when her calm, wise Doctor is replaced by a young, babbling, all singing and dancing idiot? What is awaiting them at Thoruxa Medio? And why does simply naming the planet bring so much terror into the Doctor's hearts?  
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* * *

><p><span>Prologue<span>

The sound of the shots reverberated around chamber. Most of the men were nervous, flinching with every explosion, they knew it wouldn't be long now. Only one man ignored the sounds. A lone figure bent over a system of pulleys making calculated adjustments. He was clearly very old, his skin was all wrinkly and he had gone completely bald. He wore a green camouflage jacket, which stood out like a sore thumb in grey tunnel terrain which they currently fought in, over a black and yellow stripy t-shirt, which contrasted with his blue jeans and red converses. He stood up with a grunt and admired his handiwork.

"Doctor," the old man turned to the speaker. The grey uniformed soldier couldn't help but stare into his ancient eyes, like an eternal abyss almost like they had stared into the time vortex itself. "They are coming."

"Thank you sergeant," The Doctor responded, he looked down at his handiwork once more. "Just in time too," he strode into the centre of the room and commanded total attention without having to say anything. "The Klakzons will be upon us shortly. They are well armed and are likely to kill all those who stay in the room before I can put the plan into action. But if I am alone I will surely fail. I do not ask that you all stay, you may take the opportunity leave, all further part in this is completely voluntary."

Several men looked at one another and scarpered for the exit but a few loyally stood their ground including, surprisingly, a blonde haired girl dressed in the clothes native to the 21st century. The Doctor nodded at her, he knew she wouldn't desert him. "Thank you, if we succeed today the rebellion will be crushed. Even though none of us may make it out alive, we will all go down in history," The Doctor finished solemnly. The remaining soldiers set up a defensive perimeter facing the many exits. The girl walked over to The Doctor as he made his way back over to the pulley system.

"You weren't serious about us all dying were you?" she asked, nervously wiping her glasses.

"There is always that possibility," The doctor replied frankly. "Help me with this would you."

She nodded in response and helped him to tie lengths of rope around his wrists. She watched his expression out of the corner of his eye. She had been travelling with The Doctor for quite a while now. They had come up against many dangers but she had never seen him this solemn before.

There was screaming from down the corridor. "They are coming," The Doctor said. "Get behind that plinth Lisa," the girl did as she was told. "Keep hold of that pistol in case I need it."

The screaming was accompanied by banging and shouts, the soldiers looked at one another nervously and then they saw them. Slowly marching down the corridor came the foot soldiers of the Klakzon Uprising. They were all wearing red, a symbol that they would continue fighting for their cause even after all the blood was drained from their bodies, and were armed with various rifles. Over their faces were steel monster masks to hide their identities. They suddenly picked up speed and charged into the chamber firing their rifles in random directions. Lisa screamed as red laser blasts crashed into the plinth she was cowering behind. The soldiers fired back taking down many of the Klakzons. A few good shots took down the sergeant that had alerted The Doctor and a few others.

"Hold your fire!" The Doctor screamed. Everyone stopped, even the Klakzons. Doctor held up his arms that were attached to the ropes. "If I pull this rope, we will all die."

The Klakzons looked at one another and slowly filed sideways. "You can come in further," the Doctor pointed out. "They won't shoot you."

They cautiously stepped forwards slowly parting to allow someone at the back to make it to the front. He was clearly the leader, he stood more upright and wore a Soviet Union flag as a cape. He wore no mask showing that he was human. He had curly black hair and the sort of goatee that villains always seemed to have. "Doctor," The villain snarled.

"Mack Nikon," Doctor replied. "So good to see you again."

"What exactly will happen if you pull that rope?" Nikon asked suspiciously.

"Oh, these," Doctor jangled the ropes. "Several rifles have been strategically placed around this room. When I pull the rope, they will fire."

Nikon looked around the room. "I don't see any strategically placed rifles," he said sceptically.

"Well, I'm hardly going to put them in plain sight, am I?"

"I think you are bluffing," several Klakzons started to take step forwards.

The Doctor stretched the rope taut. "Not another step," he growled. "Do I look like a man who is bluffing."

For the first time Nikon became nervous. "Why are you doing this?" Nikon asked. "You understand my cause. You and I are interested in the same things, we both wish to help the plight of the ordinary individual. Why do you work for the government."

"I understand your cause, I just think you are going about it in the wrong way," Doctor responded. "If you surrender then I will make sure they don't execute you."

"And you can promise that?" Nikon queried.

"Throw your weapons to the floor and I will not pull the rope," The Doctor said simply.

Nikon looked at his men and nodded. Every man threw their rifle to the floor. Once they had all done so the soldiers stood up and pointed their rifles at them. At this point the Klakzons lost their nerve. Many turned and fled back down the corridor they had entered from. The Doctor sighed and pulled on the left hand rope. Doors dropped down sealing all the exits. Nikon stared at The Doctor who shrugged in response.

What The Doctor wasn't expecting was for the rest of the battalion of soldiers who had deserted him to enter. The leader screamed: "Death to the rebels!" and another knocked The Doctor, forcing him to pull on the other rope. They all dived for cover. Several flags unfurled. When nothing else happened the soldiers stood up and looked at the flags. They all had the word 'Bang' written on them.

"You were bluffing!" Nikon exclaimed.

"I'm a Doctor, not an executioner," The doctor shrugged.

"Get the weapons!" Nikon pulled out a pistol and killed many soldiers while the Klakzons dived for their weapons. Doctor jumped down beside Lisa as the lasers began whizzing around the room.

"I was doing so well as well," he moaned.

"You can't win them all," Lisa commented.

"I just wish that people would actually give in when I warn them to," Doctor complained. "Pass me the pistol, it's time to put plan B into action."

Lisa handed him a revolver and wished him good luck. Doctor stood up slowly, he couldn't move as quickly as he used to be able to, and slowly walked into the middle of the chamber; laser blasts whizzing around him. He looked around a few times, as if working out angles before firing the revolver in two specific places. The bullets ricocheted off the walls glancing off the sides of the heads of soldiers and Klakzons before cutting two pieces of rope. Everyone stopped firing and looked up as a huge cage dropped out of the ceiling and landed over all those who had been fighting. The Doctor sighed with relief and turned to leave.

Lisa got up and walked out with him. "Good shot," she said.

"I'm getting too old for this," he said in response (as he always did in these sorts of situations).

* * *

><p>After a long meeting with the President, Lisa and The Doctor were making their way back to the TARDIS. Despite the successes The Doctor was more solemn than he normally was. "Cheer up," Lisa said. "You put a stop to the rebellions and managed to persuade the President to follow through with policies that favour the people more. I think things went quite well, if you ask me."<p>

"There's one problem," Doctor replied, "I didn't die."

"And that's a bad thing?" Lisa raised her eyebrows.

"Do you remember that Verron Soothsayer?" The Doctor asked, Lisa nodded in response. "He told me that I was going to die. Here as well."

"Definitely here?"

"Well he didn't specifically say here," Doctor shrugged. "But all the clues he gave suggested that it would happen here."

"Well you aren't dead, are you?" Lisa continued regardless. "You should be happy. The Soothsayer was wrong."

"Verron Soothsayers are never wrong," The Doctor said gruffly. "Even if I don't die here, my body will not last much longer; I have had this incarnation for so long that I have forgotten which one I am."

"Incarnation?" Lisa was not aware of The Doctor's ability to regenerate.

"When a Time Lord comes to the end of his life he or she changes," Doctor explained. "It's a technique that allows us to cheat death, if you like. The wound that almost kills us gets healed and we change into a completely different person. I will still be The Doctor, just not The Doctor that you know."

"And you want it to happen now?" Lisa exclaimed.

"Well, I either wait for my life force to run out in a couple of weeks time. Or I allow myself to receive a quick and spectacular mortal wound here," The Doctor turned a corner and came face to face with the TARDIS. "Looks like I'm just going to have to play the waiting game."

It was at that moment that a man rushed into the centre of the street amongst the largest number of people possible. He threw off a long black cloak to reveal a bomb strapped to his chest. He lifted up a metal monster mask a placed it over his head. "Long live the Klakzons!" he screamed and pulled the two cords that set it off.

With his last ounce of strength the Doctor hurled Lisa behind the TARDIS. He started after her, at which point his back seized up. For Lisa it was over in the blink of an eye, but it felt like an eternity to the Doctor. He turned back to face the bomb as the Klakzon disappeared in a ball of fire. The shockwave threw The Doctor off his feet like a rag doll and cracked the wall where he crashed into it. It wasn't the blast that killed him, it was the shrapnel that followed.

"Doctor!" Lisa jumped back to her feet and ran to his side. "Can you hear me? Doctor!"

Blood poured out of the many wounds that the shrapnel had carved in his chest. The Doctor coughed up blood and a strange golden yellow substance that dissipated upon touching the air. He clicked his fingers and the TARDIS doors flew open. "The TARDIS, quickly," he spluttered.

Using every ounce of her strength she hoisted him to his feet and led him into the TARDIS, resting on her shoulders. The doors slammed shut and he collapsed onto the see-through floor. She covered her mouth in shock as he convulsed and expelled more of the golden yellow substance from various parts of his body. Then he stood back up again and began to press controls on the console. "We need to get out of here," he gasped. "The TARDIS doesn't like taking off straight after a regeneration and I am not keen on explaining how come I have suddenly turned into someone else."

He screamed as the central column began to rise and fall. There was the unmistakeable sound of the TARDIS dematerialising. The doctor turned to face his companion who was completely paralysed with fear. "I'm acting out of character aren't I. The personality of my next incarnation is already exerting itself," his voice was clear again. But it was not his voice. "Hello that's different, my voice has changed already? Aghh," he massaged his head as the golden yellow substance (bio-energy) spat out of the pores on the top of his head. Very slowly brown hair began to grow. "I have hair, I have hair, argh!" The bio-energy exploded across his body healing all the scars that his previous incarnation had picked up over the years and suddenly stopped. The Doctor panted heavily.

Lisa took a step towards him. "Doctor?" she asked cautiously. The young man that stood in front of her jerked his head towards her like a rabid dog. She screamed and jumped back.

He rubbed his top lip and chin. "Never had facial hair before," he commented. Thinking that the regeneration was over he took a step forwards. One of his legs grew a few inches longer, expelling energy as it did so, he tripped and fell. "That's not right."

There was a bang and the TARDIS jerked to one side. "What's going on?" Lisa shouted.

"Basically the shrapnel from the bomb ruptured several organs in my body, forcing me to regenerate in order to survive. For some reason, while I have grown younger and healed all my wounds, other parts of my body haven't changed yet. Most notably, my right leg just changed, while my left leg still belongs to my previous incarnation," The Doctor explained.

"What? No I meant the TARDIS," Lisa specified.

"Oh that, we're being towed," he said casually.

"Aren't you going to do something about it?"

He shrugged and hobbled over to the console. "Birds flying high you know how I feel, Sun in the sky, you know how I feel, Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel, It's a new dawn, It's a new day, It's a new life, For me," it was only at this point that Lisa realised what he was doing. He was singing. The Doctor she knew never sung. "And I'm feeling good," he finished as the TARDIS jerked out of the tractor beam and continued on its previous destination: Earth.


	2. Scavenge of the Pilot Fish

**Part 1: Scavenge of the Pilot Fish**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

It was a building like any other. Four walls, a roof, a front door and windows. It was filled with many rooms. Some were hired out for use by lawyers and companies that couldn't afford their own meeting rooms, but most were offices for important members of secret societies. This wasn't the reason The Doctor had landed here; he hadn't intended to land here at all. A cleaner in the corridor became aware of a grating sound, very much like a key being scraped along a piano string [that was how they made the materialisation noise originally if you are unsure what I am referring to]. Very slowly a blue police box appeared in midair, the cleaner turned and ran. Once the materialisation was complete gravity took hold and pulled it to the floor. The meeting in the room below paused as they wandered what that almighty crash above them had been.

The Doctor stumbled out to admire his handiwork. "Not bad," he said. "Not bad at all."

Lisa followed him out with an expression that suggested that the journey had indeed not been bad; it had been awful. The previous Doctor had never had trouble in piloting the TARDIS. The Doctor sat down and pulled off his converses.

"They're going to be too small for me," he said throwing them over his shoulder. The jeans were also too tight around the leg that had changed so he ripped it along the seam to give his leg more room. "Cor, look at that muscle," he said examining his new leg. "And the hair!"

"Where are we Doctor?" Lisa recovered from her shell shock.

"Earth," Doctor replied.

"Yes but where on Earth?"

Doctor looked around at his surroundings. "No idea," he said. "Let's find out shall we."

The doctor proceeded to walk down the corridor in a way that only a man with one leg longer than the other could possibly walk [the closest real life example is someone walking with a platform shoe on one foot and nothing on the other]. Despite the difficulties the Doctor was facing in walking, Lisa found it difficult to keep up with him.

"Those curtains do not match the walls," he muttered as he walked past a window. It didn't even have any curtains.

"Novak Djokovic is going to regret eating that grass in a minute. Energy equals Mass times the speed of light squared. Current velocity equals initial velocity plus acceleration times the time taken. A man walked into a bar... ouch."

The Doctor continued spouting random pieces of information until they came to a door. Without bothering to knock the Doctor barged straight through. A married couple were having a divorce settlement.

"It's not worth it. Just kiss and make up, everyone has arguments now and again. This will cause a lot more grief than a few petty arguments I can assure you," The Doctor said as he wandered through. Lisa ran after him apologising as she went.

As they walked down the corridor The Doctor's walk became normal, signifying that his other leg had now changed. He continued to speak randomly about stuff that wasn't important at the moment. As he entered another room he proclaimed that: "the flux of a star on Earth equals the luminosity of the star divided by four times pi times the distance from Earth squared." The men in suits stopped what they were doing and stared at this new arrival.

"My trousers are too small. You what is your waist size?" The Doctor pointed at the man closest to him.

"Err 30 inches," the man guessed.

"That'll do, give me your trousers," Doctor ordered.

"No, come on," Lisa dragged the Doctor out of the room.

"You would make more money if you concentrated more on marketing," Doctor said as he was lead out.

Lisa slammed him against a wall outside. "What are you playing at?" she demanded.

"There are so many ideas running through my head," Doctor exclaimed. "I have to voice them to the world!"

"Well do you have to go around causing trouble like that? You'll get us arrested or something."

"We'll be fine," Doctor dismissed her fears. "I just ended the Klakzon Uprising, I don't think that a primitive Earth security force will put us in too much peril." A cleaner walked past. "Do you want my jacket? It's getting a bit small for me." Doctor pulled off his combat jacket and thrust it into the arms of the cleaner. The Doctor's arms were still old and wrinkly.

"You can't just give away all your stuff!" Lisa exclaimed pulling the jacket out of the man's hands.

"Why not? It's my stuff."

"Because... because then it's like losing you," she said tearfully. "You've turned into a completely different person. You can't just act as if you never were him."

"I'm not him anymore, He is dead like the Verron Soothsayer said," Doctor said. "I cannot go around imitating one of my previous lives. One of my lives, I forget which one, was very similar to the one before but I worked hard to make myself as different as possible. Each time I change I become a different person and I need to find who I am, I cannot get bogged down by the past." He gave the jacket back to the cleaner.

"Hey you two," a man dressed in black combat gear stood at the end of the corridor, he was clearly a security guard.

"Hello there!" Doctor called back. "What is the size of your waist?"

"34 inches," The guard replied before remembering himself. "That doesn't matter, I would like you to come with me."

"Shame," The Doctor and Lisa began to walk towards him. "I need new trousers."

"I need you to come with me."

They followed him down the corridor for a few minutes. Suddenly The Doctor stopped. "What is it?" the guard said impatiently.

"I like your boots," he said.

"Come on we don't want to keep them waiting," the guard ignored the statement.

"What size are they?"

"Doctor don't."

"You have been upsetting a lot of people," the guard said angrily. "You will not delay this any furthARGHH!"

The doctor upended the guard and examined the soles of his boots. "Perfect," he said and started to wrestle them off his victim. Upon succeeding he ran off down the corridor with them, as the guard was radioing for back up. Lisa tried to follow but was tripped by the guard, pinned down and handcuffed.

"Run, run as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man!" Doctor hollered as he sped through the corridor.

When he thought he was safe he paused, leaned against a wall and put them on. They fit perfectly. He walked up and down the corridor a few times to try them out. "These boots are made for walking," he sung. "And that's just what they'll do. One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you."

Several doors opened and people stuck their heads out to see what all the noise was about. The Doctor danced down the corridor explaining that in the time they have wasted in watching him they could have been discovering a cure for cancer.

"Stop!"

The Doctor picked up speed. A few metres down the corridor he found it blocked by several security guards. He turned to run back the other way but found that there were several guards coming from that direction too. He cowered against the wall.

"I'll never tell you the code to destroy the world," he pleaded.

The guards looked at one another, slightly confused. One which didn't seem to be wearing any boots stepped forwards. "Nowhere to run now," he mocked.

"Ye gods! Where are your boots?" Doctor exclaimed. "Someone must have stolen them!"

"Yes! You stole them!"

"Oh yes, so I did," he said looking down at his feet. "What am I like?"

"Your coming with us."

There was a ping and the lift doors behind The Doctor opened. He stepped backwards into it, grabbed the passenger towards his chest and pointed something at his neck. "No one come any closer!"

The guards remained motionless, then one pointed out. "That's a torch isn't it?"

"12 out of 10," The Doctor said, and pushed the man out of the lift just before the doors closed.

There was an absence of any lift music as The Doctor descended so he decided to provide his own. He whistled a tune until the lift doors opened again. On the other side stood a man, flanked by two men in army style clothing. The man in the centre seemed very familiar.

"Brigadier!" The Doctor exclaimed.

"No not anymore. It's Sir Alistair now," the man said patiently. "Who are you?"

"I'm The Doctor."

Sir Alistair looked him up and down. "You don't look like any doctor I know," he said sceptically.

"Well I've regenerated, haven't I."

"And how will you prove that? I have had a lot of men trying to get away with things by telling me they are the Doctor," Sir Alistair said.

Almost on cue The Doctor convulsed. He leant against the side of the lift until some bio-energy spewed out of his mouth. Once that was over he stood up straight again and grinned at the former Brigadier.

"You had better come with me then, Doctor."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, on star ship composed mainly of rock the council that controlled it were unhappy. Before stood the source of their unhappiness. Pilot Fish. Golden robots that wore black hooded robes. The Pilot Fish currently worked for them, performing the boring menial chores such as cleaning and maintenance in exchange for power to their batteries; and protection from the many people they had upset over the years.<p>

"Why was the interstellar tractor beam activated?" the Sycorax spokesman queried.

The Pilot Fish did not speak. Not in a way that we would understand. They beeped and whirred until the Sycorax understood.

"You do not think that our energy reserves are worthy?"

They beeped and whirred again. The Sycorax murmured amongst themselves.

"We wouldn't dare go after him. He is dangerous."

The Pilot Fish in unison pointed at the spokesman and beeped more loudly.

"Even so," the spokesman said. "You do not know where he is."

The Pilot Fish confirmed that they knew exactly where The Doctor was.

"We will never go there. Not after what happened to Kalajura Seven."

"We do not need you," a robotic voice from the shadows stated. The Sycorax looked at one another in shock. "We shall make our own way there. We are merely informing you of our resignation."

* * *

><p>The Doctor sat in an office on the opposite side of Sir Alistair's desk. As the former head of UNIT, Alistair was used to eccentricity of the Doctor, he even joined in when The Doctor started singing 'All You Need is Love'. Doctor jumped up happily when the two UNIT soldiers returned carrying many pairs of trousers.<p>

"We have taken the liberty of buying a new pair of boots for Mr. Stephens," one of them said.

"Good I wouldn't want to leave without paying my debts," he began rifling through the trousers.

"So what brings you here?" Alistair asked.

"I hear that Stonehenge is nice this time of year," Doctor said without looking up.

"Its December," Alistair said patiently. "I mean is there anything I should know about?"

"What do you think?" The Doctor held up a pair of flowery Bermuda shorts.

"Umm, they're a bit bright," Alistair said.

"Correct, I was wondering when you would notice that," The Doctor picked up a sensible black pair of trousers. Before he could do anything else he had another fit and expelled more bio-energy from his mouth. The crotch area of the trousers disintegrated on contact with the energy. "I still haven't found what I'm looking for."

"So you just stumbled upon me by accident?"

"That's right," The Doctor pulled off his jeans and put on a pair of dark brown cargo trousers.

"That's good," Alistair complimented. Although he was slightly envious of the Doctor's new younger body.

"Yes, all I need now is a new top," The Doctor said. He looked at his wrinkly arms. "And for my arms to actually change."

"So how many have you had now?" Alistair asked. "You must be coming to your last regeneration soon."

"No idea," The Doctor shrugged. "I was in my last life for so long I forgot which one I was. I'm sure I will remember eventually. Speaking of which, do you ever get the feeling you have forgotten something. Only I have this distinct feeling I have forgotten something."

"Could this be a result of your regeneration?"

"It has happened before," The Doctor shrugged. He coughed violently spraying bio-energy across Alistair's desk. "Oh, I remember now!"

"What is it?"

"Fire bolts have identification numbers," The Doctor said triumphantly.

"What?"

"That's a very important Harry Potter fact," Doctor said enthusiastically. Alistair raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"he needs to find a new companion," he said quietly to one of the soldiers while The Doctor raced the stapler and hole puncher around the desk. "I think being on his own has made him go mad." The soldier raised his eyebrow. "Madder, then," he emphasised. To the Doctor he said. "Have you been alone long."

"No not very long at all," he said cheerfully. His smile suddenly disappeared. "Ah, I knew I had forgotten something."

* * *

><p>Lisa was looking very pissed off when she came through the door a few minutes later. Doctor jumped up to greet her.<p>

"I found some new trousers," he said happily.

"Did you steal them from an innocent bystander as well?" she asked sarcastically.

"No actually my good friend Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart found them for me," The Doctor pointed to Sir Alistair.

"I'm not a Brigadier anymore," he said, slightly irritated now. "It's Sir Alistair."

The Doctor ignored this. "Brigadier, this is..." The doctor frowned. "This is Mona... err."

"It's Lisa," Lisa said tetchily.

"Yes I would have got there eventually. This is Mona Lisa," The Doctor introduced.

"No not Mona Lisa you idiot," Lisa shouted. "I was telling you that it was Lisa, not Mona."

The Doctor was speechless for a moment. "Well why was it wrapped in foil?" he asked.

"Are you ever going to make sense?" Lisa countered.

Alistair quickly jumped up to put a stop to the fight that was breaking out. "Pleased to meet you Lisa," he shook her hand.

The Doctor sat down on his chair and begun to stare out of the window. Lisa threw up her arms in exasperation. "He used to be so calm, and wise, and friendly," she said softly. "Now he's turned into a babbling, young fool."

"I have seen the Doctor in many incarnations," Alistair said. "They were all completely different, some were as mad as he appears to be now. But you could always rely on him to save the day."

The Doctor grabbed a pen from the desk and began to start writing on the wall. "The old Doctor wouldn't have done that," she said sadly.

"He often goes excessively mad after a regeneration," Alistair reassured her. "Maybe once he empties the thoughts from his mind he might calm down a bit."

The writing on the wall grew very quickly from the speed at which The Doctor was writing. It was a jumble of random words and phrases, coupled with well known facts as well as less well known facts. As he wrote he hummed the theme tune to New Tricks as he wrote quotes from films and TV programmes. He even started to write down formulas for scientific equations. He sneezed. Bio-energy mixed with the mucus from inside his nose and made the wall dissolve in the places that it hit. The people on the other side stared at the hole that had suddenly been created.

"So, sorry," The Doctor called, then screamed as a sharp pain shot through his spine. The people jumped up and quickly left. The Doctor recovered and spied a white board that had been left behind. He climbed through the hole and began writing on the white board instead.

"I'm never going to be able to use this place again," Alistair moaned covering his face with his hand.

"He's not well," Lisa said sadly. "He must have caught something from the shrapnel."

"No, that's normal," Alistair said. "In a few hours he will be fine, and you will be able to go travelling once more as if nothing happened."

"Except he isn't the man I started travelling with," Lisa said. "He's a completely different person."

"It will take some getting used to," he agreed. "But I'm sure you'll grow to like him as much as the previous Doctor."

"It was the Sycorax!" The Doctor suddenly shouted from the other room. They both poked their heads through the hole in the wall. The white board was covered in writing, but unlike the writing on the wall it appeared to be ordered like a scientist writing a big, long equation. At the bottom of the board the word 'Sycorax' was underlined several times.

"What's the Sycorax?" Lisa asked.

"They're the people who were trying to tow us in the TARDIS," The Doctor explained.

"The same Sycorax that were behind the Christmas Invasion?" Alistair asked.

"Not the very same ones obviously," Doctor scoffed. "They were executed by Harriet Jones. No these are different ones."

"But why?" Alistair wondered. "They're terrified of you, and Earth for that matter."

"Who knows," Doctor shrugged. "But they were definitely after me, or the TARDIS, or Lisa."

"Who are the Sycorax?" Lisa asked confused.

"A tribal alien race dedicated to war," The Doctor explained. "The Kalajura tribe attempted to invade Earth using blood control, but I put a stop to it. As they were retreating the then Prime Minister ordered their destruction. They could be after revenge I suppose."

"After all these years?" Alistair questioned.

"It takes a lot longer than you would think for that sort of news to reach the other tribes," the Doctor explained.

The door to the room he was in suddenly opened. In strode four figures in blue protective overalls that covered their faces. They carried several pieces of cleaning equipment with them. One carried a mop in a bucket, another carried a cleaning spray of some kind and a cloth, the next one dragged what looked like a Hoover behind him and the last one held a large bin bag. A series of beeps came from them.

"On second thoughts," The Doctor said. "I don't think the Sycorax are involved after all."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because that Pilot Fish just told me they were confiscating me in the name of the Pilot Fish Queen," The Doctor said. "Which doesn't really make sense really. Pilot Fish don't have queens. They don't have any leaders at all, they are just scavengers."

The one holding the bin bag punched The Doctor in the chest and threw the bag over his head. The Doctor didn't put up much resistance as he was slung over its shoulder. Lisa screamed which drew the attention of the other three. The one with the mop twisted the end of the handle and detached it from the rest of it and pointed it in a threatening manner towards the two humans.

"I'll deal with this," Alistair held up his cane and pointed it at the disguised Pilot Fish. He pressed a hidden button and a dart fired out of the end and into the chest of the lead one. It made no difference whatsoever.

"That won't help," The Doctor shouted from inside the bag. "They're robots."

The one with the spray stepped forwards and sprayed Alistair's cane; which dissolved on contact. He and Lisa jumped back from the hole in the wall, hoping to avoid being sprayed themselves. The mop Pilot Fish activated its weapon. A sudden surge of electricity leaped from the handle and grounded through the helpless humans. After the electricity ceased they collapsed to the floor, unconscious. The Doctor decided not to resist as he was carried away by the Pilot Fish. He knew it was pointless to resist, but he was also curious as to who this Pilot Fish Queen was, and what she wanted with him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: please do let me know what you think, I am always eager to hear from my readers<strong>


	3. Scavenge 2

**Author's note: I discovered after the time of writing that Nicholas Courtney, who played the brigadier, died several months ago so the following chapters have been edited to fit better with canon. RIP Nicholas Courtney.**

**also a big thank you to Brownbug who reviewed the previous chapter.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

The Doctor found the journey to the Pilot Fish's lair to be a lot more pleasant than you would have expected. For a start the Pilot Fish were being very gentle as they carried him through the streets, almost as if they wanted him in a tip top condition. From the confines of the bin bag the Doctor had no distractions from the outside world so was able to concentrate on letting his body regenerate properly. He was almost disappointed when the journey did end.

He was gently lowered to the ground and allowed out of the bin bag at his own pace. The Pilot Fish soon got bored of waiting and forced him to his feet anyway. The Doctor surveyed his surroundings with interest. It was a large warehouse, very dimly lit and with no windows. Lined up on both sides were a huge number of Pilot Fish, completely motionless. The four Pilot fish that had abducted him had removed their overalls by this time stood on either side of him like escorts, they still held their cleverly disguised weapons.

"So good of you to join us Doctor," a robotic voice echoed from the other end of the room.

"The Pilot Fish Queen I presume," The Doctor replied cheerfully. The grin quickly faded as another jolt of pain shot through his body, bio-energy ejected from his mouth.

"Quickly! Harvest it!" the Queen ordered. The Pilot Fish with the Hoover stepped forwards and proceeded to suck up the bio-energy before it could disperse.

The Doctor watched this with interest. "My next question was going to be: What do you want with me?" he said, "but I think that is rather obvious now, isn't it."

"With your energy we shall be able to power our batteries for a several millennia," the Queen confirmed. "We shall no longer need to latch onto a craft of more powerful beings in order to receive the energy we require. We will be our own masters!"

"It is a nice ambition," The Doctor replied. "Very unoriginal though. I would have thought that with a new leader in the form of yourself you would have a more productive goal but it seems you are just the same as before."

"We are not the same as before," The Queen screeched, clearly offended. "I have created a much more efficient workforce. We hold more power in this universe than ever before. And this is a new plan for us to succeed. Never before have we tried to take a gain our energy from a regenerating Time Lord."

"Doesn't that tell you anything?" The Doctor tried to raise one eyebrow and was irritated by the fact that he couldn't.

"We will succeed," she said calmly, "you are weak from the regeneration."

"What are you?" The Doctor wondered. "What do you hope to achieve? Powering all these Pilot Fish will not do you any good. I know that you aren't a Pilot Fish, the fact you can speak is evidence enough, but I can't work out what you actually are. Give us clue."

"I am the Pilot Fish Queen."

"Yes, but what were you before?"

"Enough of this. Take him to the harvesting room!" the Pilot Fish grabbed him and marched him out of the room. He would have resisted but he had another spasm of pain.

* * *

><p>"How can you be calm?"<p>

Lisa and sir Alistair had recovered from their encounter with the Pilot Fish and were now sitting at his desk with a few UNIT soldiers. Sir Alistair seemed to be taking everything in his stride whereas Lisa was panicking.

"I have had to deal with many of The Doctor's incarnations," Sir Alistair explained. "I am confident that he will be able to look after himself. You should know that."

"But this isn't The Doctor," Lisa complained. "Not the Doctor I knew anyway, He wouldn't have just rolled up and allowed the monster to capture him."

"The best thing we can do is keep calm," Alistair said again. "Luckily we had people to keep an eye on them when they left the building. We should know their location any minute..." the phone rang, "now."

Sir Alistair lifted the receiver and spoke to the person on the other end. Lisa and the soldiers waited intently as he conversed, nodding with interest at certain points and noting something down on a piece of paper. Once he was done he lowered the receiver.

"Well?"

"A very nice Indian chap has just sold me some double glazing," he replied. Lisa slumped down into her seat and put her head in her hands. "What you didn't expect me to get results that quickly did you?"

Lisa didn't answer, things were going completely out of control and she seemed to be the only one who realised the seriousness of the situation. After what seemed like an hour, even though it was only a few minutes, the phone rang once more. Alistair answered it and upon hearing what was said on the other end stood up.

"Thank you very much," he said and put the receiver down. "They've found him."

The soldiers jumped to their feet and made their way to the door, following sir Alistair's instructions. "I'm coming too," Lisa announced.

There was a moment of protestation from the troops but Alistair batted them away, he knew from experience that none of the Doctor's companions would ever want to miss out on his rescue. They grudgingly allowed her to come but assured her that they would not allow anything to slow them down; which is probably why sir Alistair elected to stay behind.

* * *

><p>The Doctor was roughly strapped onto a table in a room that was much brighter than the previous one had been. He did not show any indication of pain as straps were tightened around his wrists and ankles.<p>

"Who is she then?" The Doctor asked the closest Pilot Fish as if he were an embarrassing parent asking their child about their secret crush.

The Pilot fish looked at him and beeped a few times as a response.

"Yes I know she is the queen, but who is she really?" the Doctor persisted. The Pilot Fish repeated the same answer so The Doctor decided to change tactic. "It seems to me that she is calling all the shots now. What happened to your unity, this is almost as bad as when you were reprogrammed by the Racnoss. Now that was a long time ago," he mused. "One of my greater incarnations that one, bit serious at times but better than..."

He was cut off by a Pilot Fish covering his mouth with what looked like an oxygen mask. He followed the pipe that led off it to a machine, very much like the Hoover that had sucked up the bio-energy earlier. He suddenly convulsed and ejected bio-energy out of his mouth, the golden substance was instantly sucked up and into the machine. The scavenge had commenced.

-break-

The soldiers and Lisa gathered outside the entrance to a large warehouse. They all stood there unsure of what to actually do next.

"Why don't you just force your way in?" Lisa asked.

"That could be dangerous," Sgt. Butcher, the man in charge of the operation, said. "We do not know what lie behind these doors, there could be horrible monsters."

There was a murmur of agreement from the assembled men. "And why should that make any difference?" Lisa asked.

There were a number of reasons that were being explained to her now, several of which were unintelligible due to them all explaining at once. She realised that it all boiled down to one simple fact: they were all scared to go inside.

"The Doctor could be dying in there!" she screamed cutting them all off. "And instead of doing anything to rescue them you are standing out here, thinking up excuses to not go and rescue him. Some soldiers you are." She grabbed one of their guns. "Well I am going in there, the Doctor needs our help and I'll be dammed if he doesn't get any."

As the door slammed behind her the soldiers let off an 'ooh' sound and then made derogatory comments about her gender and suggestions about it being a certain time of the month.

* * *

><p>Lisa crept through a maze of badly lit corridors, brandishing the gun in front of her. Despite the fears of the soldiers she was finding absolutely no resistance. The lack of bug-eyed aliens was actually slightly disconcerting, at least she would then know what she was up against. As it was she could only wonder what the enemy was doing to the Doctor. Eventually she came to a set of sliding doors, half open. She cautiously slipped through.<p>

She found herself in the large room where The Doctor was first taken. It was eerily silent and dimly lit. The figures that stood motionless down either side were slightly creepy. Lisa slowly walked over to the nearest one and touched it lightly. It was a robot, she decided, a robot that was deactivated most likely.

"Doctor!" she called.

"The Doctor is not available at the moment," a robotic voice echoed from the end of the room.

Lisa pointed her gun towards the voice. "Who's there?" she called, trying to sound braver than she felt.

"Step into the darkness," the voice said.

Lisa looked around nervously before stepping in between the ranks of Pilot Fish. She did not notice the very end one turn its head towards her. "The Doctor is not well," she said as she walked. "I need to find him in order to help him. You must appreciate that."

"The Doctor is in perfect condition for what we want," the voice said. "I assume that you are his latest companion."

"Who are you?" she called. Getting slightly uneasy.

"You say you come here to help him," the voice continued regardless. "But you know nothing about him."

"I have known the Doctor for years," Lisa screamed back, she quickly calmed down and resumed her stalk between the motionless robots.

"Yet what has he told you of his past?" the voice persisted. "Has he told you of his sins in the Last Great Time War? His inability to defend Earth against the 456, the Blessing, the return of the Slitheen, the Blathereen, Abaddon..."

"You know so much about him, why don't you explain!" Lisa stood stock still shaking with rage. "I wouldn't want to tell him about some of my darkest secrets. Regardless of what he did I have known him long enough to trust him completely," she said this with some conviction but couldn't help wondering whether this was still true in the light of his recent regeneration.

The Pilot Fish Queen gave no indication of having heard the latest outburst, she just continued on the long list of evil deeds performed by the Doctor. "11 items in a ten items or fewer aisle, parking the TARDIS on a double yellow line and all those library fines."

"So what you are here to punish him for all of those things that he has done," Lisa queried.

"On the contrary, we intend to harvest all the bio-energy he disperses from regenerating," the queen responded.

"To what end?" Lisa asked.

"I grow tired of this conversation," the Queen said.

Lisa pointed the machine gun towards the end of the room and strolled purposely forwards. "Where is the Doctor?" she said levelly. "You will take me to him or I shall destroy y..." the Pilot Fish Queen came into view and she was shocked by what she saw. "You're a hmmm."

A cold metal hand clamped over her mouth silencing the rest of her sentence. She swung wildly with her arms but a second arm came round and pinned them to her sides; the machine gun fell to the floor with a clang. She wriggled about but the grip was like iron and the unknown assailant appeared not to feel any of her vicious kicks.

"She wants to see the Doctor?" the Queen asked rhetorically. "Then let her see the Doctor."

The Pilot Fish turned and carried her away. Lisa kicked and thrashed about to no avail. She tried to scream for help but they were too muffled for anyone outside of the room to hear properly.

* * *

><p>The Doctor lay motionless on the bench allowing the bio-energy to be sucked into the machine. He was using this moment mostly to allow himself to continue to regenerate properly, it was always much more difficult when he was busy trying to save the world at the same time. To any onlooker it appeared as if he were simply asleep.<p>

This moment of tranquillity was spoilt by the arrival two Pilot Fish, one holding the captive Lisa in its arms. The one that wasn't holding her walked over to The Doctor and removed the mask from his face. He instantly woke up stared at the new arrivals in his room.

"What part of do not disturb do you not understand?" he said not unkindly. As he looked at them some more he noticed Lisa in their grip. "Lisa!" he exclaimed happily, "I was wondering when you would arrive."

"Mmm mmm hmmm," Lisa said.

"Could you let her speak, please." The Pilot Fish removed its hand from over her mouth. She gasped in relief.

"What are they doing to you?" she asked once she had recovered her breath.

"They're harvesting my bio-energy," The Doctor replied. "Presumably so they can keep their batteries going without any need for outside help. The strange thing is that they have never done anything like this before."

"Would the queen have something to do with it?" Lisa asked.

"Almost certainly," he said. "They have never had any leader before arrrgghhh!" he suddenly convulsed on the bench. He arched his back and expelled more bio-energy from his mouth. A pilot fish frantically brought the mask back to his face, before he could do so the loose bio-energy was sucked up the tube and into the machine. "See!" the Doctor cried triumphantly. "You only need to dangle it above my head, you don't need to press it against my face!"

The Pilot Fish looked at one another in incomprehension and began exchanging beeps and whirs. "What do we do now?" Lisa whispered.

"You don't need to whisper they aren't listening. Well I was thinking of simply lying here and allowing myself a chance to regenerate properly without any distractions."

"What about the robots?"

"The Pilot Fish," The Doctor corrected, "can be dealt with later. I cannot do anything until I have fully shifted into my new personality."

The Pilot Fish decided that they had wasted enough time here and ended their conversation abruptly. They carried Lisa over to a second bench and proceeded to strap her to it. Once she was securely fastened they left, deciding that they did not need to place the mask over The Doctor's face like he suggested. The Doctor and his companion were left alone in the room.

* * *

><p>"Voulez vous, aha, take it now or leave it, now is all we get, nothing promised no regrets!"<p>

"I thought you were trying to concentrate on regenerating," Lisa cut in causing The Doctor to cease in his singing almost instantly.

"In singing, I can ignore the constant rush of ideas that float through my mind," the Doctor explained.

"Any of those involve a plan on how to escape?" Lisa asked more in hope than expectation.

"Escape wouldn't be of any use at the moment," The Doctor said grinning for no apparent reason. "We have no means of dealing with the Pilot Fish at the moment so they would simply put us back in here to continue harvesting my bio-energy."

Lisa resigned to the fact that they were going to be here for a long time so decided it would be better if they distracted themselves in some way, rather than worrying about what they were going to do. "What is the Last Great Time War?" she asked.

The constantly upbeat incarnation of The Doctor slowly turned his head to face his companion. For the first time since his regeneration he looked completely serious. "Who told you about the Time War?" he asked.

Lisa sensed the change in tone and instantly felt guilty. "It doesn't matter," she said frantically and turned away.

"It was the queen wasn't it." Nothing seemed to get past The Doctor. She nodded slowly. The Doctor looked to the sky and started to smile. It wasn't the cheerful smile of before, it was an eerie, ironic smile completely devoid of any happiness. "The first and last war to take place in the time vortex as well as the true universe itself. A war so cold and twisted that we wouldn't even allow the Sontarans to get involved. Not because we were scared of what they would do, but because we didn't want to expose them to the depravities that we had wrought."

"You fought in it?" Lisa asked cautiously.

"On the front line," The Doctor nodded, "along with many other Time Lords."

"I thought you were the last of the Time Lords?" Lisa looked at him quizzically.

The Doctor turned to her and flashed his bitter smile. "Just because I am the last of the Time Lords now, doesn't mean I was always the last of the Time Lords."

Lisa stared at the ceiling and didn't say any more. "I should be happy really," The Doctor continued regardless. "I brought it all to an end. I saved the universe from utter destruction but..." he trailed off unable to bring himself to continue. Lisa decided not to push him any further, she didn't complain when he started to hum a well known tune once more.

Lisa suddenly remembered something. "There are UNIT soldiers outside," she cried.

"Well why didn't you say," The Doctor stopped humming and tried to sit up. "Why aren't they inside?" he asked slumping back down.

"They were scared of what they would find, considering they work for UNIT you would have thought they would be more willing to enter."

"Never mind, once we get to them I will be able to inspire them to enter," The Doctor announced.

"Good, but we are currently a bit trapped," Lisa said indicating the straps that bound their wrists and ankles.

"Yes, right, escape, escape," The Doctor said and immediately began humming 'The Great Escape'.

"Doctor, focus!" Lisa shouted. "We need to get out of here!"

"I met Houdini once," he said absent-mindedly.

"Never mind about that!" Lisa exclaimed. "Focus on finding a way to get us out of here."

The Doctor turned his head towards her with a quizzical look on his face. "You have heard of Harry Houdini haven't you?"

Realisation dawned in her face. "Oh, Houdini. Well go on then, he must have taught you some tricks for this sort of situation."

"Well as a matter of fact," The Doctor flashed her a winning smile. "You may have noticed how my arms are tensed. Once I relax them once more they will be half the size they were before so I can easily wriggle out."

"Great," Lisa smiled back. "Do it."

The Doctor relaxed his old wrinkly arms that still belonged to his previous incarnation and started to slowly wriggle free of the straps that bound his wrists. He suddenly arched his back as a sharp pain surged through his body, bio-energy swirled around his body. Once the spasm was over he looked down at his arms.

"Oh that's not fair," he complained.

"What?"

"My arms have changed." Gone were the small, thin, wrinkled arms off his previous life and in their place were two brand new, young, hairy, muscular arms. He tested the straps again but his new arms were too big to allow him to escape.

"You mean you can't escape," Lisa exclaimed. "Some good Houdini was for you."

"To be fair he never had limbs that grew bigger at the crucial moment," The Doctor tutted. "Looks like we'll have to resort to plan B."

"What's plan B," Lisa asked.

The Doctor did not seem to answer. He simply started singing once more. "She said I love you boy I love your soul, she said I love you baby, oh oh oh ohh," he sang.

Lisa groaned upon noticing the terrible pun.


	4. Scavenge 3

**Authors note: this is actually a second draft of this particular chapter, a computer error caused me to lose my original version so I have been forced to write it all over again. Which is very irritating and demoralising. :(**

**But the reviews from Brownbug, James Birdsong and Son of Whitebeard have cheered me up greatly**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

The five active Pilot Fish congregated in the room in which the Pilot Fish Queen sat. They were all aware of exactly what was going on thanks to their collective, hive mind. in this way they could access all the information that all the others knew and use it to greatest effect. The queen herself had access to all this information as well but unlike with the others she could hide certain pieces of information from them.

Pleased with the energy that had been harvested from the Doctor the Pilot Fish urged her to use it to activate the currently inactive Pilot Fish. She was reluctant to do so. With more minds to monitor it would be harder for her stop spot and squash any hint dissent. Not wanting to make her puppets suspicious, however, she allowed some of the energy to be used, hiding the fact that there was more from the Pilot Fish, to recharge some of the inactive Pilot Fish.

The bio-energy flowed into their systems through a set of wires in their backs. As it pumped its way in the Pilot Fish began to vibrate, slowly at first but it quickly became more violent. The Pilot Fish shook violently as if they were unable to contain the massive amount of energy that was being fed into them. The active Pilot Fish raised their arms in triumph, Spray (the one with the spray) and Mop (the one with the mop) held their weapons like trophies.

When it seemed that the Pilot Fish were going to explode from the excessive energy they suddenly stopped shaking. The wire fell from their back and they stepped forwards, letting the active ones know that they were fully charged and ready for action.

"You are to follow through with phase two," the Queen ordered. She didn't actually have to say this, she could have told them telepathically but found herself saying it anyway due to force of habit. "Accessing file," she opened up the information for the Pilot Fish to see. Once they knew what they had to do they marched out of the building to act upon it.

* * *

><p>The people of the nearby town were unaware of what was about to befall them. They simply continued with their normal everyday tasks. The butchers sliced up the meat to the quantity that their customer asked them for. The bakers sold pastries that had been freshly made that morning. The one candlestick maker bemoaned, once more, the fact that no one wanted to buy his skilfully handcrafted candles and wondered when he would have to declare himself bankrupt.<p>

It was child that saw them first, as is often the case. Slowly moving wraithlike figures causing traffic jams in their wake as they made their way towards to town centre. As people approached they pulled out weapons and gunned them down. The frantic defence from the inhabitants did not seem to be enough. The pitchforks and chainsaws and sharp knives proved to be useless against these sinister foes, the only success came from liquid based attacks. Victory may have been assured for the attacking Pilot Fish, but many hung back in case of a sudden turning of the tables. Several fleeing citizens wondered where all the Christmas trees had come from.

* * *

><p>"We have nothing against you personally," the younger of the two men said, "we are simply concerned about the way UNIT is going at the moment."<p>

"We think that if UNIT is more active in the public domain than the incident at..." the other started.

"The incident was terrible," sir Alistair agreed, "but it doesn't mean we need to instantly change the way things are going." UNIT had been in turmoil since the Pilot Fish attack. Many were bemoaning the slow response and were claiming that it could have been avoided altogether had they been more active at the time. The two men talking with Sir Alistair at the moment were part of this faction. The younger of the two was of average height but was very skinny, he was clean shaven and had sand coloured hair. The other man was significantly older, he had a beard and dark hair but they had both gone silver in places. He was taller than his colleague and was heavily built.

"We have great respect for you Sir Alistair," the younger resumed his flattery. "You have done great things with UNIT over the years, which is why we want your help to make changes."

"Flattery will not change my stance," Alistair said defiantly.

"No," the older said coldly, "you appear to agree with the fools who think that UNIT should remain secret."

"Clearly the general public would be safer if UNIT was active at all times," his colleague agreed, although more sympathetically.

"The public will not be able to cope with this new way of life," Alistair countered. "As it stands they wake up in the morning, go to work and then come home, safe in the knowledge that nothing is going to happen to them. With your new proposals they will live in fear, spending every waking hour hoping, rather than knowing, that they will be safe. It will tear them apart."

The men were completely unaffected by this speech. "That will not be the case," the younger insisted.

"How do you think people will react when they discover that aliens invade regularly and that the only thing stopping them from killing us all is a special branch of the army?" Alistair questioned. "We're talking about mass hysteria here."

"It is clear that you will not help us," the older man stated pulling out a piece of paper from his jacket. "If you sign this contract you will hand your shares over to us and you will have a quiet retirement free from having to worry about us."

"And you expect me to just let you take over, just like that?" Sir Alistair raised his eyebrows.

The younger one agreed that this was a foolish expectation. "Obviously not, we want you to bear it in mind should things turn sour..." He let the rest of that sentence hang.

"Well in that case you should take this contract back to your leaders and let them know I will be their opponent until the very end," Alistair declared "It is a shame that you have chosen this route," the younger man sighed. "We could have been great together."

While this exchange was happening the older man received a message on his shiny smart phone. His eyes widened in surprise. "Tell me," he said suddenly, "what was, correction, _is_ a squad of soldiers doing in the site of an abandoned warehouse near the very town that was attacked by aliens." His colleague looked at him quizzically.

Alistair went deathly white. "I thought that they were dead," was all that he could manage. "I have heard nothing since they left this morning."

"It appears that they could have intercepted the aliens before they attacked."

"They are on an important mission," Alistair flustered. "They weren't to know what would happen."

"No," the man agreed, "but it won't look good when we push you over it."

"You intend to destroy me?" Alistair looked to the younger man for support, more out of hope than expectation.

"You have been in this game for a long time, you aren't as sharp as you once were."

"It would be better if you left now, avoid the problems that will follow for you."

"The mission was important," Alistair retaliated. "They are trying to rescue The Doctor."

The two men looked at one another in surprise, Alistair was satisfied to have shaken them a little bit at least. Eventually the older man spoke. "So you have lost The Doctor then." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"So you are going to blame me for that as well are you?"

"It would not look good when we pushed you over it," he repeated his previous threat.

Sir Alistair looked down at the contract in front of him. He did not seem to have much choice, he could fight these two men over the issues but he was old and didn't have much willingness to fight in this way. He slowly picked up a pen and positioned the contract on the desk. "This goes against my better judgement," he said, "but I seem to have no choice." He very slowly signed the contract.

* * *

><p>The UNIT squad led by Sgt Butcher were indeed still outside the warehouse, being both too scared and too lazy to actually enter. They had seen the Pilot Fish go past but had not engaged as there were too many to deal with, it would have compromised their mission to save The Doctor, but mostly because they were too scared and lazy.<p>

"Sergeant! Sergeant!" the radio suddenly crackled.

Sgt Butcher picked up the radio and answered. "This is Uniform November India Tango Delta Kilo Alpha, who is this? Over."

"Forget the call-signs," the voice barked. "This is the Brigadier. Are you aware of what is going on?"

"Several code reds have exited the warehouse, due to the large number it is safe to assume that there are still many inside so are still finding the best method of entrance, over."

"Well what the hell have you been playing at! Those Pilot Fish," the Brigadier made a point of not using the UNIT code for threatening aliens, "have attacked and massacred the nearby town. There is chaos back at HQ." His voice cracked for the first time. "I have been ousted."

Sgt Butcher was speechless, several of his men shifted about uneasily and looked at their feet. "I'm sorry sir," he said eventually.

"You need to find The Doctor," Sir Alistair murmured. "He is too important for the future of UNIT. I cannot order you to get off your backsides and actually do something but you must realise that if you don't the world is doomed." The radio went silent.

The soldiers looked at one another, allowing the information to sink in. Sgt Butcher was the first to react, he stood up and pointed his gun to the sky. "We're going to save The Doctor!" he declared.

* * *

><p>Lisa wrestled with the straps around her wrists but they were too tight. She groaned in frustration finally gave up. Beside her The Doctor continued to sing Plan B songs, making no attempt whatsoever to gain his freedom. She was incredibly annoyed by his apparent lack of activity, although she was finding herself enjoying the singing.<p>

"What's that your singing," she asked when he changed to a song she did not recognise.

"Oh that's still Plan B," he said cheerfully. "The last song they ever release as it happens. Very promising intro but peters out towards the end."

"Are all your regenerations like this?" she wondered.

"No, they are never the same," he said. "They can be similar but never identical, just like my incarnations."

"Is the singing part of this process?"

"Not really," he shrugged. "It just seems right this time."

"Do you retain anything from your previous incarnations?"

The Doctor thought about this question for longer than the previous questions. "Memories?" he eventually aanswered, as if he were a small child taking a complete guess at a question the teacher has asked. "Knowledge. Wisdom. Oh and my eyes. The eyes never change when you regenerate, they are the only constant. Apart from The Corsair's tattoo but he probably just added that later, always a show off, he was, always showing off his ability to turn into a woman, though the rest of us thought that is was a mutation of his genes, not some clever trick that you just picked up..."

"So all that is left of my Doctor is a pair of eyes that were never actually his!" Lisa said cutting him off.

"No, the eyes get passed on as an inheritance, it is a way for other species to identify us after we change," The Doctor explained. "My eyes are his eyes, and all of their eyes. Once the previous incarnation dies they cease to be his and become mine."

It was at this moment that the door burst open and the room and in filed several soldiers. "We've found them sergeant," one of them said.

"See," The Doctor said, "I knew plan b would work."

The soldiers came over and quickly released the straps around his wrists and ankles. Upon gaining his freedom The Doctor jumped to his feet and struck a victorious pose shouting: "Mission complete!" Lisa was less dramatic when she was released. The Doctor jumped down, unfazed by the odd looks he was receiving and roughly shook hands with the sergeant who was strangely avoiding any sort of eye contact with Lisa.

"Now that your here we can do something about the Pilot Fish and their so called Queen," The Doctor addressed the room in general. "I assume that the Pilot Fish have been concentrating on harvesting my energy."

"Actually they have massacred the local town," Sgt Butcher said hesitantly. The Doctor stared at him in shock, his ancient eyes burrowing deep into his soul, he wanted to look away but found that he couldn't. "There has been a power struggle back at HQ," he continued as best he could, "the Brigadier has been ousted. We aren't actually under official orders to be here."

The Doctor's previous enthusiasm seemed to completely desert him, he sank back onto the bench he had been strapped to. "This is all my fault," he breathed. "If I had been concentrating on escaping rather than singing, I could have stopped them before this happened."

"It isn't your fault Doctor," Lisa said sympathetically. "You weren't to know."

"If anything it is our fault," Sgt Butcher piped in. "We could have intercepted them before they actually reached their target."

"Well we aren't getting anywhere by wallowing in self-pity," The Doctor jumped to his feet. "This is not something any normal Pilot Fish would ever do which leads me to believe that they are being controlled by something or someone. If I knew what the Pilot Fish Queen really was then that would be much easier."

"Oh she's a human," Lisa said suddenly.

The Doctor turned to her in surprise. "How do you know that?"

"I saw her before I was captured," she explained.

"Well if she is human I know exactly how to deal with her," he said happily. "All we need to do now is confront, oh hello." He waved at the Pilot Fish that was stood in the doorway. "Everyone get behind me," he murmured confidently.

Spray pointed its spray bottle threateningly beeped some sort of warning at The Doctor. "No, like it in here. Well they are my friends, I'm entitled to have friends over every now and then. Well that doesn't sound very fair. Make me!" the last sentence was a definite challenge. Goaded by his defiance Spray blasted him in the face with his lethal weapon.

"Doctor!" Lisa screamed as he clutched his face and staggered backwards. As he faced her and the soldiers he slowly lowered his hands to reveal what the acid had done. The damage didn't last long. He winked as golden energy slowly washed over the burns, healing his wounds. The energy still lingered on his face as he turned round and roared. The remaining energy was projected like a breath of flames and hit Spray square in the chest. The Pilot Fish flew through the air and crashed into the wall outside, it collapsed to the floor smoking.

The Doctor strode out of the room, his fingers were jangling as if they were playing the piano. As he strode through the corridor the music in his mind built to a crescendo and he began singing once more. "Fear me you loathsome, lazy creatures," he sang expelling energy from his persons as he went; and knocking down Pilot Fish that he encountered. He continued singing the Seven Seas of Rhye with such energy that Lisa and the soldiers found themselves joining in for the third verse. He danced down the corridor and paused in front of a couple of Pilot Fish. He mimed the guitar solo and knocked them both down with further expulsion of energy.

He saw the double doors that led to the Queen's chamber and sang the final verse as he approached. "Begone with you short and shady senators; Give out the good, leave out the bad evil cries; I challenge the mighty titan and his troubadours; And with a smile; I'll take you to the seven seas of Rhye!" as he finished he opened the doors and stepped in dramatically. His companions gave each other questioning looks.

* * *

><p>The Queen's lair was still as dimly lit as before but The Doctor and Lisa noted that there were a lot fewer Pilot Fish than there were before. He didn't stop to admire them, he simply strode in between the ranks only stopping when the Queen came into view. "So this is the Pilot Fish Queen," he murmured.<p>

The Queen had straight black hair and snow white skin. She was completely naked apart from cybernetic implants, they were golden like the Pilot Fish and covered her left arm, her breasts, her private parts, most of her legs and the top half of her face, including her eyes. She was sat on a metal chair that was high backed and had ornate arm rests, like a throne. She sat upright with her arms resting on her 'throne' giving her a very regal appearance. Many wires threaded out of her robotic and into many machines that were piled up behind her.

"Very good Doctor," she said in a surprisingly human voice. The Doctor raised his eyebrows at this fact.

"So you are a human," he stated.

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly.

"It explains the new angle that the Pilot Fish have suddenly taken," he nodded. "I'm not sure I understand why a Pilot Fish hive would rescue a human and make her its leader."

"That is not what happened," she said wearily. "I came to them and became their leader. I plugged myself into their hive mind and slowly exerted my control over them."

"Perhaps human was not such an accurate word to describe you. You are a leech, a parasite taking advantage others weakness," as he said this he slowly walked over and began examining the wires that protruded from her arm. "You claim they are your loyal subjects by calling yourself queen, yet they are in fact slaves to your tyranny."

"Don't touch them!" a robotic voice reverberated around the room. The Queen was staring at him intently.

The Doctor apologetically stepped back from the wires. "Now that is impressive," he exclaimed. "One voice projected directly from your brain, directing your thoughts into our ears. And another, human voice, that... what do you use that voice for?"

"The Pilot Fish cannot hear my human voice," she said, reverting to the human voice.

"So you can have your little discussion with us without your slaves listening in," he taunted. The Queen did not respond to this making it clear that this was true. "Now I understand your draining of my energy, a chance to reactivate all the Pilot Fish in the hive. But I do not understand the attack on the local town, it has no strategic significance and has only really made the planet more aware of your existence."

"To be honest I didn't know they were going to do that," the Queen murmured.

"You ordered them to do it," The Doctor responded.

"No, I ordered them to follow out phase 2 of _the plan_," she denied. "I wasn't to know what phase 2 was until I opened the information for my subjects."

"Oh," realisation dawned on The Doctor's face. "Your under orders from someone else. Who sent you?"

"We never know who our employers are," she stated.

The Doctor noted the significance of that sentence before probing further. "Just out of interest, what are your orders?"

"We were to capture you, keep you from performing any action and absorb your bio-energy, as payment, and then enact on the next phases when the time is right," the Queen explained. "Now," she reverted to her robotic voice, "this conversation tires me. You shall be taken back to the harvester where we shall resume harvesting your regenerative energy."

"Good plan," The Doctor nodded, "except for one thing. I have finished my regeneration."

"What?" the Queen murmured in her human voice. She quickly steeled herself, however, and declared in her robotic voice: "Never mind, we shall make you regenerate again."

"That is a risky strategy," he tutted. "Regeneration is not a simple science. If you do not injure me enough I will simply be injured, making it harder for you to make me regenerate without killing me. Too much injury and I will die before the regeneration can activate. There have even been cases of Time Lords that didn't regenerate and simply died. That happened to The War Chief, I never understood why, it's not as if the weapons used by the warlords were particularly more fatal than any other weapon, and he didn't stop himself from regenerating like The Master did and I'm sure he hadn't run out of lives as he was in the academy with me..." he trailed off upon noticing the impatient expression on Lisa's face. He silently apologised and returned to face the Queen. "In short, is it a risk you are willing to take?"

The Queen was speechless for several seconds. "I shall have to enact phase three then," she stated. "Accessing file," her robotic voice added.

The Doctor turned to his companions. "Ok, now she's distracted we need to come up with a plan," he said.

"You mean you haven't already come up with one!" Lisa exclaimed.

"Well now that you mention it I was thinking I could do something with those wires," he admitted. "They are clearly the source of her power over the Pilot Fish. You saw her reaction when I went near them earlier."

"Well, do it then!" Lisa ordered, "while she is still distracted."

The Doctor flashed her a winning smile and turned towards the Queen and began examining the many wires, he patiently examined each one closely determining each ones purpose. Ever so slowly the Queen turned her head to face him, he acknowledged this with a nod. "Commencing phase 3," the robotic voice shouted.

"Is it anything interesting?" The Doctor asked cheerfully. The Queen didn't say anything. A shout from behind made him turn his head. He saw the Pilot Fish shake and convulse.

"Kill them all!" the Queen's robotic voice roared. The Pilot Fish stopped shaking and became still. In unison they stepped forwards.

The Doctor leaped up and stood protectively in front of his companions. "Leave them alone, it's me you want," he shouted. To everyone's surprise the Pilot Fish stopped. Ever so slowly they turned their heads towards the Queen.

"What are you doing?" the Queen demanded. She looked around in confusion when her voice turned out to be her human one. "What happened to my voice?"

The Pilot Fish slowly advanced on her. The Doctor looked around them to see what had changed, then he noticed the wire that was no longer connected to her arm. "Just one wire," he commented. "We need to get out of here now!" he said to his companions.

"Why?"

"I'll explain later!" he turned and ran, hoping that they would follow. A quick look over his shoulder confirmed that he was correct as well as showing the Pilot Fish crowding around the screaming Queen, determined to enact their revenge.

They sprinted through the corridors twisting and turning like a maze yet they still managed to find the correct way out first time. Upon exiting, The Doctor dived to the floor and covered his head. After a few minutes of cowering on the ground he cautiously picked himself back up. Turning back to the warehouse he said: "Oh, they must have got her before..." at which point, the warehouse exploded sending them all flying backward.

* * *

><p><strong>that's part one virtually finished, only one final chapter before part 2, please let me know what you think.<strong>


	5. Scavenge 4 A Solution

**Author's note: this chapter acts as a sort of epilogue to part one, as well as properly introducing the recurring theme for the rest of the story. I hope this makes sense.**

**A big thank you to Son of Whitebeard and Brownbug for reviewing the previous chapter.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

The Doctor was the first to recover from the explosion so was quick to ensure that the others were alright. Once he was sure that all the soldiers were alright he went back over to Lisa and sat down beside her.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"She is part of an organisation," The Doctor said. "An organisation of assassins. They come to the call of a wealthy contractor, and kill for them."

"And she is prone to blowing herself up is she?" Lisa asked.

"It is a common trait among many of the assassins," he nodded. "Sundew is not an organisation that handles failure very well. Many an assassin has killed himself rather than face the wrath of the Sundew council, blowing themselves up is a popular method of suicide."

"Have you seen her before then?" Lisa asked.

"Not her specifically," The Doctor shrugged. "But I have seen others, they all have the same tattoo on the back of their necks. A star encircled with tears."

"So someone is trying to kill you?"

"And cripple Earth in the process," The Doctor nodded. "If the brigadier has been ousted I don't see how UNIT is going to be of any use in the future."

"Poor Alistair," Lisa murmured. "He must be devastated."

"Doctor." They both looked up to see Sgt Butcher standing over them. "Sir Alistair will want to see you," he said.

The Doctor jumped to his feet. "Yes I want to see him too. But," he looked down at his battered t-shirt, "I think I had better find a clean shirt first at least."

* * *

><p>Sir Alistair sat at his desk staring into empty space. He knew that he needed to pack up his things and leave, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. UNIT had been part of his life for so long that he couldn't see himself coping as a normal citizen. A small gust of wind blew some papers off of his desk. That didn't matter, he wouldn't need to do anything with them anymore. Then it occurred to him that the window wasn't even open, there was a further gust of wind. Where was that coming from? Then he heard a very familiar grating sound.<p>

He couldn't help but smile as the TARDIS slowly materialised in front of him, despite all that had happened The Doctor was safe. Once the familiar blue police box had appeared in the room the door flew open and several soldiers rushed out. Some were sick on the floor, others simply looked very green.

"I don't see what you are all complaining about," a male voice resounded from inside the time machine. "I landed it properly this time."

"Yes but you didn't fly it particularly well," a female voice responded.

"Doctor! Lisa!" Alistair jumped to his feet. Lisa exited the TARDIS first and threw herself into his arms.

"I am so sorry," she said.

Sir Alistair did not reply, he was busy staring at the next figure who was leaving the TARDIS. It was The Doctor.

He still wore the trousers and boots that he had obtained earlier but he no longer wore the stripy t-shirt of his previous incarnation. In its place was a strange sort of jacket. From behind it looked like a brown leather jacket, the sort that cowboys used to wear, with brown strips of leather dangling from the arms. When he turned around after locking the TARDIS door it was revealed that while the sleeves were still brown and leather, the torso area was not. It was like a waistcoat, cream in the background and with several purple and pink swirls across the front. It was the sort of waistcoat that would be worn at a wedding. Underneath he wore a shirt with the top button undone.

"I am so sorry Alistair," he said.

"It does not matter," Alistair said, tears welled up in his eyes in joy at the use of his real name. "I was going to retire anyway. I am liking your new look."

The Doctor looked down at himself. "Yeah," he agreed, "although I feel as though something is missing."

"A tie or cravat?" Alistair suggested.

"He has already tried that," Lisa pointed out.

"That's not important right now," The Doctor dismissed. "We need to do something about the mess you have gotten into."

"Oh you need not worry about me. They have been trying to get rid of me for years, and now they have succeeded. I suppose I can finally retire to the south of France," Alistair smiled, but gave the impression that he was inches away from bursting into tears.

"You shouldn't give in," The Doctor said hurriedly. "It is clear that this was the Queen's employer's plan, to cripple Earth, make it more susceptible to alien invasion."

"You may be right there," Alistair agreed. "The new angle that UNIT is going to undertake under the new shareholders will almost certainly alienate the civilians."

"Why what are they going to do differently?" Lisa asked.

"They want to make UNIT more active on the civilian stage," Alistair explained. "They want to make it like a war zone, with stop searches and constant surveillance. And they will almost certainly get it after what happened."

"The Pilot Fish attack," The Doctor realised. "So it is my fault."

Alistair slumped into his chair not willing to put blame on his friend, but secretly agreeing with his previous statement. No one said anything for several minutes out of guilt, grief, and in some cases time travel sickness. Then The Doctor noticed something behind Alistair's head.

"You don't strike me as the sort of man that would like tulips, Brigadier," he said.

Alistair looked over his shoulder. The fact that The Doctor had called him 'Brigadier' suggested that he had some sort of plan or idea. "No not really," he shrugged. "It has always been there, I never thought anything of it before. What is it?"

"Don't touch it," The Doctor ordered. "I'm going to go and check on things."

"It's just a painting of some tulips, Doctor," Lisa moaned.

"I did not see any pictures in any of the other rooms," The Doctor responded. "It could be very significant." He exited before any further argument could occur.

* * *

><p>"When will it be my turn?"<p>

"It will be your turn in a minute," the mediator said irritably once more. "And stop talking unless you are holding the talking hat."

The man rolled his eyes, folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. Sat opposite was a man holding a wide-brimmed, brown fedora hat; not dissimilar to the one usually associated with Indiana Jones. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"I just think you don't appreciate the skills that I do have. And you don't even allow me to make mistakes, you are too critical!"

"Ok," the mediator stepped in, "now you hand the talking hat over."

The speaker reluctantly handed the hat over. The other man snarled upon grasping the hat. "I couldn't care less about your so-called skills. I have seen no evidence of these skills in action and you have made so many mistakes. I can overlook some but with the number you have made..."

It was at this moment that an eccentrically dressed man entered the room. To be fair the men were not especially put off by the strange jacket that he was wearing, the thing that grabbed their attention the most was his energetic singing.

"Walk this way, talk this way, walk this way, talk this way," The Doctor screamed. "Oh sorry, I won't be a moment." He strode to the end of the room, carefully counting the steps he took.

"Oi! We are trying to solve a dispute in the workplace," the mediator exclaimed.

"Yes, sorry about all this," the Doctor apologised. "I'm just leave... what is that hat all about?"

"It's the talking hat," the mediator explained. "You cannot talk unless you are holding the hat."

"Well how come you are talking then?" The Doctor queried.

"Yes that is a good point," said the man holding the hat. "Why don't you have to abide by the same rules as us?"

The mediator snatched the hat back from the man. "I am the mediator," he said. "I don't need the talking hat to talk."

"And yet you felt the need to snatch back the hat before explaining yourself," the Doctor raised his eyebrows.

The mediator was about to answer when the hat was snatched away again, this time by the other man. "Can we perhaps get on with our discussion?"

"Oi, it's my turn, you just had yours!"

"Stop grabbing the hat, you'll break it."

"Why are you grabbing it then?"

The hat was now grasped by all three of the men and they were wrestling to prevent the others from getting hold of it. The Doctor watched as the hat was slowly stretched between the three and it pained him.

"Stop it!" he shouted, all three men stopped. The Doctor picked up the hat. "I think this has caused enough trouble for you."

The men looked at one another sheepishly as he left the room. They were about to resume the discussion when they realised that The Doctor had indeed taken the hat with him. They looked at each other helplessly, finding themselves completely unable to speak.

* * *

><p>Lisa and Sir Alistair looked at the picture carefully. They felt that there was something behind it but didn't want to actually move it until The Doctor returned. Impatience quickly set in and Lisa reached out to grab it. At that moment The Doctor returned and she quickly brought her hands back to her sides. The Doctor ignored them and paced to the end of the room, silently counting the number of steps taken.<p>

"That wall is much thicker than it should be," he declared, pointing towards the wall with the picture on it. "That leads me to believe that that picture is hiding something."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Yeah, could have worked that out before you. What's that you've got there?"

The Doctor looked down at the thing in his hand. "Oh that's the talking hat," he said, having almost forgotten about it.

"It's a hat that talks?" Lisa queried in confusion.

"No of course not," he replied, turning it over in his hands. "They were using it next door in a workplace dispute."

"As in, you can only talk when you are holding the hat?"

"That's the one."

"Why have you got it?"

The Doctor shrugged. "The dispute got worse and it looked like they were about to rip it," he explained, "and that didn't feel right."

"Try it on," Alistair said.

The Doctor looked at him and very slowly placed it on top of his head. It fitted perfectly.

"That's what was missing," Alistair said. Lisa nodded in agreement.

"I'll have to take your word for it," The Doctor replied, indicating a lack of mirror in the room. "Remove the picture," he ordered.

Lisa didn't need telling twice, she had been itching to do so since The Doctor had pointed it out. This was why she was so annoyed when the brigadier got there first. Hidden behind the picture was a safe, as is always the case. The Doctor stepped forwards triumphantly and examined the mechanism carefully.

"Lisa pass me my sonic screwdriver," he held out his hand in anticipation.

"Your what?" she asked

He turned towards her in confusion. "You know, my sonic screwdriver."

"Why would she have it?" Alistair asked in confusion.

"I haven't got it any more, have I?" the Doctor realised.

"I have certainly never come across you using a sonic screwdriver," Lisa said.

"Never mind," The Doctor quickly recovered from this discovery. "Brigadier, put in the code."

"What code?"

"Any code, just let me note down each number as you put it down."

Alistair looked at Lisa before slowly twisting the knob to select a completely random combination of numbers. The Doctor was quick to write down each number before he selected a new one. To everyone's surprise (apart from the Doctor) the safe clicked open. The Doctor gently pushed past Alistair and grabbed the pieces of paper inside. They waited patiently as he slowly read through each paper.

"What are they, Doctor?" Lisa asked impatiently.

"Am I correct in thinking that you have signed away all control of UNIT to these men?" The Doctor asked, ignoring the question for a moment. Alistair nodded. "These papers are your saviour, you have in fact given them a completely defunct organisation. A poisoned chalice if ever I have seen one."

Alistair snatched the papers away from the Doctor and scanned through the papers himself. He soon confirmed that The Doctor was right. All the rights and privileges of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce had been suspended and passed onto a branch of Torchwood. The men that now had control of UNIT had no actual power to do anything as the organisation no longer existed; technically it hadn't existed for several years.

"How?" Alistair asked. "That's my signature from seven years ago, but I certainly never signed anything like this."

"It appears that you are going to sign it, in the past, if that makes sense," The Doctor offered.

"So you are going to take me back in time in order for me to sign this which scuppers the plans of the ones who ousted me now?" Alistair guessed. "Surely even I would have heard of this by now."

"Ah," The Doctor held up his finger with a triumphant grin on his face. "If you read page 10 you will find that this doesn't come into effect until seven years after the document was signed. So about now."

Sir Alistair read through page 10. "Not just about now, exactly now," he said. "It came into effect a few seconds ago."

Lisa grinned from ear to ear, ecstatic about the way things had turned. "How did you manage to pull that one off Doctor?" she asked.

"I haven't done anything," The Doctor said defensively, then added. "Yet. Come on Brigadier, we're going to the past."

The Doctor turned and headed straight for the TARDIS humming 'On the Road Again'. Lisa sighed realising that even if the regeneration was complete it appeared that the singing was going to continue.

"Hold on." They all stopped and turned towards Sgt Butcher. "What happens to us now?"

"Your call brigadier," The Doctor said disappearing into the TARDIS.

"You should take these papers and deal with them accordingly," Alistair said handing over the papers. "I am going to trust you to look after them, they are very important. I am sure Torchwood will contact you at some point."

"It has been an honour to serve you, sir," Sgt Butcher saluted.

"It has been an honour for me too," Alistair smiled and allowed Lisa to help him into the TARDIS.

* * *

><p>The Doctor danced around the console pressing various buttons as he went; preparing the TARDIS for the upcoming journey. He pondered on the curious nature of time travel. The Brigadier was in trouble yet he seemed to have sorted it all out for himself, or will do so in the future. Yet this was only going to come about because they already knew they were going to do it. A paradox.<p>

As he thought about this a sharp pain suddenly shot through his chest and bio-energy was expelled from his mouth. He clutched the console for support as he recovered from the dizzy spell. _ That was strange_, he thought as he stood upright once more. _I thought that my regeneration was over._

He turned around to smile at his companions as they entered the TARDIS. "Are we ready to go?"

"Fire away," Alistair said enthusiastically. "I must say that it is very different from the last time I was here."

"Yes," The Doctor agreed that the TARDIS had been very different the last time that the Brigadier had been in the TARDIS. "I am thinking about redecorating."

"You are not!" Lisa said firmly.

The Doctor gave the appearance that he hadn't heard that last remark and started up the TARDIS. The central column began to oscillate and there was the familiar sound of the TARDIS dematerialising. He deliberately had his back to his companions so that they couldn't see the look of concern on his face. He had never taken this long to regenerate and it didn't look as if it was going to end anytime soon either. Something very strange was happening with this regeneration and he didn't want Lisa or the Brigadier to worry about it; he was going to work this one out for himself. As the last of the Time Lords he was the only one who could help him.

* * *

><p><strong>End of part one<strong>

**Coming next: Part two, the Vampire Assassin**


	6. The Vampire Assassin

**Author's note: a big thank you to Brownbug who reviewed the previous chapter. Please follow his example, you dont have to say very much but it would be nice if you did so that I know whether what I am doing is appealing to you or not, I cannot make attempts to improve if I don't know what i have done to upset everybody.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Part 2: The Vampire Assassin<strong>

Chapter 1

It was one of the most important events in the Shadow Proclamation calendar. It was a huge dinner attended by leading members of each of the affiliated planets and led by the Shadow Architect herself. In the huge room where they all sat down to a three course meal, using this opportunity to relax from the hard work of keeping law in the universe and relax. They may have been relaxing, but with the number of important figures of governments all congregated in one room it would have been totally at ease. At each doorway stood a Judoon guard. They were watching each and every individual for signs of trouble, and scanned each person that entered to make sure that they were who they claimed to be.

A male, red eyed humanoid of the same species as the Shadow Architect stood nervously in the doorway as he was scanned. Once the Judoon had confirmed his species he was stamped and allowed to go through. Once he was far enough away he briefly smirked to himself before making his way directly towards the Shadow Architect. He passed Groske, Hath, Vespiforms and Raxacoricofallapatorians (of the law abiding families) as he made his way towards his target. No one challenged him. No one even suspected. They just allowed him to make his steady progress towards his target.

"Shadow Architect," the man regarded the leader of the organisation.

The Shadow Architect looked up at him coldly. "What do you want?"

He leaned nervously on the edge of the table. "I am sorry to disturb you," he said, "but I am a great admirer of your work. I wanted you to know that you do us all proud, you should not give up on your war on Sundew no matter how hard you are finding it. We will stand by you no matter what."

She seemed genuinely flattered. "Why thank you." He smiled and turned to leave, snarling briefly when she couldn't see his face. She resumed her conversation with the Judoon colonel (the overall leader of the Judoon) unaware of the true intentions of the mysterious man.

* * *

><p>Judoon captain Vykro was in charge of security for the evening. Everything had been going smoothly, until he was called out for a situation.<p>

"This had better be good," he said grumpily.

The Judoon stood in front of him indicated the body of the woman (of the same species as the Shadow Architect) on the floor beside them. "This woman is dead," the Judoon said.

"I can see that," Vykro snarled.

"She has been murdered," the Judoon clarified.

This got Vykro's attention. "Murdered?" He exclaimed. "How?"

The Judoon indicated a wound on the woman's neck. It was perfectly circular and had dried blood seeping out of it. "We have a Plasmavore on board," the Judoon stated.

Vykro was impressed by this Judoon's reasoning. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Commander Kabrok, sir," the Judoon stated.

"Remove your helmet Commander Kabrok-Sir," Vykro ordered, failing to notice that sir wasn't part of his name.

Kabrok started for a second. It was a great honour to be allowed to remove your helmet on an operation, normally only the captain himself was able to do so. There was a brief expulsion of gas as the oxygen seal was broken. Vykro's bare face was tough and battle hardened, with a long sharp horn and scars on the side of his face. By contrast Kabrok looked incredibly docile. He had no scars and his horn was short and stumpy.

"All scans are to be upped to level two," the captain explained. "You shall take charge of finding this Plasmavore. I shall tell the Shadow Architect of the situation personally."

Kabrok saluted and allowed Vykro to make his way to the dining hall. Although he was aware that this was a deliberate trick on Vykro's part to make the young commander do all the work for him, Kabrok was relishing the chance to prove his skills. Hopefully this would lead to a promotion if things went well. Little did he know that promotion was just around the corner, and it would have nothing to do with how well he handled the situation without the captain.

* * *

><p>Vykro strode purposefully into the dining hall and towards where the Shadow Architect was sitting. She, and the colonel, were not pleased to be interrupted once again.<p>

"What is it captain?" the Judoon colonel demanded.

"My apologies. We have reason to believe that there is a Plasmavore on board," Vykro stated.

"A Plasmavore?" the Shadow Architect said sceptically.

"We found your personal assistant with the characteristic wound of a Plasmavore attack," Vykro explained.

"Which was?" the colonel tested.

"A circular wound in the neck, most likely caused by a cylindrical object like a straw," Vykro answered. The colonel nodded with grudging approval. "I can assure you," Vykro continued, "that we are doing our utmost to locate it. The situation is under control."

* * *

><p>A squad of Judoon marched down the corridor scanning each individual they came across; at the second level, they had learnt about the Plasmavore's trick of assimilating the genetic structure of other species. They rounded onto an empty corridor. Knowing that it was empty and led to a dead end they marched past without checking thoroughly.<p>

The Plasmavore slowly moved away from the wall and allowed his skin to return to the colour of the Shadow Architect's species. Colour change was a skill that all Plasmavores possessed, it was vital to allow them to disguise themselves as the various species they drank from. This particular Plasmavore was particularly skilled in this department, easily changing his colour to match the walls he stood against.

He smirked and looked at his wrist. Very slowly a device, not dissimilar to Captain Jack's vortex manipulator, extracted itself from inside his flesh. He tapped it a few times to bring up the remote control for the bomb he had planted. Without hesitation he detonated it.

* * *

><p>Vykro was suddenly aware of a loud beeping noise, the Shadow Architect and the colonel heard it too. All three of them looked down at the table. Vykro was the first to notice the red light flashing from underneath.<p>

There was no time to run. There was just enough time for the Judoon to say some final profound and intellectual final words. However, Vykro was a Judoon, so his final words were in fact: "Oh shi..."

The powerful explosion killed Vykro, the colonel and the Shadow Architect instantly. Other people on the high table were also killed and various people in the room were grievously injured, many of whom later died of their wounds. The hunt for a murderer quickly changed into a hunt for a mass murderer.

-break-

The Plasmavore hissed in triumph and tapped a few more buttons on his device. As he did this his skin slowly reverted to its natural state. He became see through, the skin was like a rubbery polythene bag. Through the skin you could see the translucent skeleton and semi-transparent organs, as well as many lethal weapons and devices that were concealed in his body. On his neck the emblem of Sundew appeared, strangely vivid on his transparent skin.

In his intent on the device on his wrist he did not notice the Judoon come into the corridor.

"You! Halt!"

He looked up in surprise and frantically pressed more buttons on his device. Before the Judoon could get close enough to realise, he managed to activate the vortex manipulator and he disappeared in a flash of artron energy.

* * *

><p>Arriving at his destination with a jolt, the Plasmavore cursed his over-confidence. The Judoon would now know who he was and would be well placed to enact their revenge. Despite this he was pleased to report to his superior that he had succeeded in his mission; phase 1, kill the Shadow Architect, and phase 2, kill the Judoon colonel.<p>

He stared at his vortex manipulator and read as his superiors confirmed his mission success and transferred his part of the payment into his Sundew account. This was so that if he ended up dying on any mission any money in his account could be returned to his superiors. He realised he would have to lie down low for the time being so set up the co-ordinates for Earth; the Judoon couldn't follow him there.

He was about to activate the vortex manipulator when he received a message from his superiors. It was an open contract, for anyone to participate in. When he read the target he smiled to himself. He was in luck. The target was on Earth, exactly where he was heading. He dematerialised smirking that the kill would be his once more. The Doctor didn't know what was about to hit him.

* * *

><p>Lisa walked out of the shopping centre loaded up with various shopping bags from each of the various shops. After dropping Sir Alistair off in the past at Torchwood The Doctor had declared his intentions to redecorate the interior of the TARDIS manually. So while he did this Lisa took the opportunity to go shopping.<p>

As she put her key into the TARDIS she fully expected the interior to be completely different. In reality she saw no difference whatsoever. The only indication that there had been any work done were the tools scattered across the floor. She sighed, shutting the door behind her, and made her way towards her room to discard her bags. Upon returning she noticed the Doctor pacing up and down in front of the scanner screen, talking rapidly in a language that she recognised as Judoon. The Judoon on screen answered back in the same language. At this point she realised that The Doctor had changed something. The oval, mirror like screen had been replaced by the square screen of a flat screen TV. A Samsung LCD one by the looks of it.

The conversation continued for several minutes before the Judoon bided farewell and the screen reverted to static. The Doctor stood ponderously for a moment.

"Why can't the Judoon apprehend the Plasmavore?" Lisa asked.

The Doctor looked at her in suspicion. "You understood what we were saying?" he queried. "The TARDIS doesn't translate Judoon."

This was true, Lisa had heard The Doctor explain when she had first encountered the Judoon. Apparently, due to the extensive translation technology that the Judoon utilised, any further attempts of translation by the TARDIS resulted in a feedback, leading to explosions and implosions in the console. The Doctor had lost one of his old console rooms in this way; the white one with all the circles on the wall. As a result Judoon was the only known language, other than Gallifreyan, that the TARDIS wouldn't translate.

"Yeah," she nodded. "You do remember the trip to..."

"Oh yes," The Doctor remembered. In an adventure before his regeneration they had got stranded on the Judoon's home planet, he had been forced to teach her the language in order to survive. "Basically it is because he has come to Earth, and the Judoon cannot operate on Earth."

Lisa nodded, that made sense. She shifted about uncomfortably as The Doctor stared at her. "What?"

"Just curious about your new look," he said.

Lisa looked down at herself. In light of The Doctor's regeneration and his plans to redecorate the TARDIS, Lisa had decided that she would change her look as well. She now wore blue denim shorts, black plimsolls and black socks that went to above her knees. On her top half was a white t-shirt and a denim jacket with sleeves that only went three quarters of the way down the arm. On her wrists were a few bracelets that were clearly new along with a small silver watch, that The Doctor knew would be completely useless. Her hair was also completely different, instead of it being tied behind her head in plait it was allowed to fall freely across her shoulders. The only thing that remained constant was her glasses. But her necklace was very familiar.

"That's his ring isn't it," The Doctor noticed.

Lisa grabbed hold of it protectively. "You remember him?"

"I never forget my enemies," he said not unkindly.

"It doesn't look right does it," she said looking down at herself nervously.

"No, you look fine," The Doctor said dispelling any of her worries. "Now we need to find this Plasmavore."

Lisa allowed herself a little grin as The Doctor dived under the control panel. He came up holding a small device that looked like a shop's chip and pin machine. He began to type furiously on it. When Lisa asked what he was doing he replied that he was tracing the Plasmavore's tracking signal.

"Why can't the Judoon do that?"

"They cannot access Sundew's data banks," The Doctor replied.

"Oh, he's an assassin is he," Lisa said in surprise.

"Each one has a tracking device on him, or her, so that the bosses can keep an eye on them and know straight away if they die," The Doctor explained. "And I thought you understood every word."

"I didn't see all of the transmission," Lisa pointed out.

"Ah, found him," The Doctor shouted and made his way towards the doors to the outside world. He stopped himself halfway. "Is there something else?"

Lisa hesitated for a moment before answering. "When we said goodbye to Alistair, I sensed that you didn't expect to see him again. You seemed almost reluctant to part."

"I didn't come back in time for him," The Doctor nodded. "I tried to take him with me on one last trip but I discovered that he was already dead, having spent the rest of his days waiting for me. It appears that this trip resulted in the overall shortening of his lifespan that prevented me from seeing him again before."

"I'm sorry," Lisa said.

"It doesn't matter," The Doctor smiled. "I warned him that this may be the last time I would see of him, he'll never give up hope. Now let's go!"

As they exited the TARDIS the Doctor began singing again. "When I was one, my journey'd begun, the day I went to sea." Lisa groaned inwardly but remained close to him, she didn't want to lose him in the twisty streets. She ignored the many curious eyes that watched them as they made their way but threw glares at anyone who dared to snigger.

Fortunately the journey was not very long and The Doctor quickly stopped in front of a large building. "Now I'm here, now I'm here. Now I'm there, now I'm there. Just a new man!"

"Oh shut up," Lisa said, not willing to listen to any more of his singing. "So where are we?"

"A library!" The Doctor exclaimed. "Very good place to hide, there will be loads of humans in there to mingle with."

"Doesn't make things easy does he," Lisa commented.

"No," The Doctor agreed. "But that makes things so much more exciting." And with that he danced up the stone steps and through the double doors; Lisa followed in a less eccentric manner.

* * *

><p>The Plasmavore was sat at a desk, disguised as a human, apparently enjoying a book on the origins of ballet. He turned around just in time to meet the gaze of the man who had been sneaking up on him.<p>

"I'll get you one of these days," the man grinned.

The Plasmavore grinned back. "You'll have to get up much earlier to pull one over me."

"Indeed," the man agreed. "How goes life at Sundew?"

"Same as usual. Just killed the Shadow Architect and the Judoon colonel," the Plasmavore shrugged. "Partly why I am here." Then he turned serious. "The other reason is because you inform me that The Doctor is currently here on Earth. You had better be correct."

"When have I ever let you down Alkrad?" The man raised an eyebrow. "I have been keeping an eye on him for several weeks, he recently caused the destruction of Mechween."

"Well she was always overconfident," Alkrad dismissed. "We all knew that taking over a Pilot Fish hive would only lead to trouble. How do you know he is still here?"

"He took his old friend from UNIT to the past for one last trip. Most likely out of guilt for not coming back for him before. The TARDIS has been parked in the main square all day, and now that he has heard about you it is unlikely that he shall leave now."

Alkrad nodded in agreement, you could not dispute his informant's logic. "Did you bring the food?" he had a long running agreement with his informant. They would share information while the informant brought Alkrad blood and Alkrad protected the informant from any of the organisations that were trying to find or kill him.

The informant smiled mischievously and directed him towards a closet. After making sure there was no one watching he typed in a code and opened it. Hidden inside, right at the back was a young female, bound and gagged and staring fearfully at the two men.

"What is this?" Alkrad asked.

"The blood that you asked for."

"No, this is young girl," Alkrad said, trying to remain calm. "I have told you before that I do not drink from live beings unless it is part of a mission."

"What do you want me to do, steal from a blood bank?"

"That's what you have always done before!"

"Oh come on," the informant pleaded, "you would be doing me a favour. It can hardly be much different."

"How would you know, you don't drink blood," Alkrad retorted. "It picks up more flavour when it has had time to coagulate. You don't drink wine straight from the vat. And I am not murdering for you, you can do that yourself."

"I can't keep stealing from the blood bank. They'll get suspicious."

"To be honest I don't care where you get it from. I just don't want to be forced to drink from a living, breathing human. Other species would be fine, but human blood needs to be out of the body for a time before it is palatable."

"Fine," the informant slammed the door. "You're so ungrateful sometimes."

They wandered back towards the entrance. "I suppose all we need to do now is find the Doctor," Alkrad commented.

"Well that won't be difficult," the informant said.

"Why?"

"Because that's him there," the informant pointed towards an eccentrically dressed man who was just entering.


	7. Vampire 2

**Author's note: a big thank you to Son of Whitebeard and Brownbug for reviewing the previous chapter.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

The Doctor strode purposefully across the main entrance. Despite his confident walk he was still stopped at the desk by a receptionist.

"Could I see your library card please," she said politely.

"Oh yes," he patted the pockets of his jacket. "I'm sure it's in here somewhere."

The Doctor proceeded to empty out his pockets. The items that were slowly lined up on the desk in front of him included: a cork, a broken pair of glasses, a toy car, a harmonica (which he only didn't play because Lisa stopped him), a piece of string, several cogs and springs, a rusty old penknife, the TARDIS key, several credit cards many of which were from different planets and time zones, a playing card (the thirteen of clubs), and a small paper bag.

"Oh I haven't seen these for ages," he exclaimed happily. He reached inside and pulled out a green jelly baby. He bit into it and his ecstasy suddenly vanished. "Not as nice as they used to be," he commented as he slammed the bag onto the table and began patting his pockets once more.

"What are you looking for, Doctor?" Lisa whispered so that the receptionist wouldn't hear.

"My psychic paper," the Doctor whispered back. "You wouldn't know where it is would you?"

Lisa worked it out first. "Is this another item you used to use a lot before you met me?" she asked, knowing that the answer would be yes. The Doctor turned to her with an expression that told her that she was correct.

"Alright then," he said, "we don't have one. Can't we come in without one?"

"Well to be honest I was just picking a random customer for a survey," the receptionist said. "If you had said that you weren't a member I would have just let you in."

"Never mind." If the Doctor was irritated at all by this revelation he didn't show it, he just smiled back cheerfully. "We shall go for a little look round, then." He strode on into the library purposefully.

"You forgot your things," Lisa called after him, clearly annoyed even if he wasn't.

"What am I like?" he said as he returned to the desk. "I would forget my own head if it wasn't screwed on properly." He stopped as if just remembering something. He pulled a face of disgust and massaged his neck. "Ooh, now that wasn't fun at all."

"Of all the adventures you had with me, you had to remind us of that one, didn't you!" Lisa ranted, massaging her own neck.

The Doctor quickly put each of the objects into his pockets, except for the jelly babies which he gave to the receptionist for her troubles, and quickly made his way into the main area of the library. The receptionist stared after the two new visitors with interest, before eating one of the jelly babies.

* * *

><p>"I still don't understand why you didn't just kill him there and then," the informant said as Alkrad turned away from the balcony.<p>

"You don't understand how it works do you?" Alkrad snarled. "He's a Time Lord, I can't just throw a knife into him, he would regenerate. I need to get him through both hearts simultaneously." To demonstrate his point he held out his left arm and allowed it to return to its natural transparent form. Inside his arm was a thin metal rod which slowly extended out through the palm of his hand, once fully extended it was about half a foot in length. There was a snap as the tip split to make the weapon a two pronged fork, the prongs a perfect distance apart to puncture the two lungs or, in the case of two-hearted creatures like Time Lords, two hearts simultaneously. Alkrad had used this weapon on many two-hearted species, he had found that they could often survive losing one of their hearts but never both.

"Why couldn't you have thrown that?" the informant queried.

"I can't throw this, even if I wanted to, it's built into my body," Alkrad explained. "If he dies down there I would have no head start in my escape from the scene and the Judoon would be able to intercept me when I try to leave. But by killing him in there." He pointed towards the main area of the library. "I can hide the body, give myself a chance to escape before they realise. And throwing can be unreliable. If I don't get him properly I would have to go in and finish him at close range. In the entrance hall I wouldn't be able to do that."

"Alright, you've made your point," the informant held up his arms in defence. "So what is the plan?"

"We head in there," Alkrad pointed. "when he is in a position alone, I will stun him with one of my poison tipped blades making him helpless when I come to attack him with the trident."

"So patiently wait until he lingers into the perfect position and make sure he doesn't leave first," the informant summed up.

"That is correct."

"In the meantime could you kill my ex-girlfriend for me?"

"Is she the one in the cupboard?" the informant nodded. "I am not one for immoral killings, only if you make me a fair price," the Plasmavore explained.

"What constitutes a fair price?"

"Make me an offer and I will tell you if it is fair."

"How about allowing you to keep all her blood once you are done," the informant suggested. "Does that constitute a fair price?"

"As we have already discussed..." Alkrad started.

"I didn't say you had to drink the blood now," the informant elaborated. "You can bottle it for later."

Alkrad thought about this for a moment. "Done," he said eventually. "Keep an eye on him for me."

"I certainly will," the informant said to himself as Alkrad disappeared into the cupboard. He pulled up one of his sleeves to reveal a vortex manipulator, he tapped a few buttons that secretly sent out a signal into space. "How very moral of you," he muttered sarcastically.

* * *

><p>Up above all this action, perched on the surface of the moon, was black cylindrical ship, perched upright on four clawed feet that acted as landing gear. A Judoon Rocket. Up in the command deck a Judoon suddenly picked up signal from Earth. This was a huge surprise, although they had been waiting for The Doctor to contact them over the assassin they never actually expected him to do it; they knew that The Doctor didn't trust them enough.<p>

"Captain!" the Judoon called over to the newly promoted Captain.

Captain Kabrok, helmetless to show his authority, strode over to the Judoon. "What is it commander?" he asked.

"We have received a signal from Earth," the Judoon informed.

"From The Doctor!" Kabrok exclaimed. "Why would The Doctor tell us where he is, he doesn't trust us to do our job properly."

"No actually it is from someone else," The Judoon commander said in surprise. "They are offering the location of the Plasmavore in exchange for a sum of money."

"Can you trace where the signal is coming from?" Kabrok asked.

"No, they appear to have encrypted the signal," the Judoon shook his head.

Kabrok pondered on this turn of events for a second. He felt it was partly his fault that the Shadow Architect and the Judoon Colonel, and to an extent Captain Vykro, had been killed as it had happened on his watch. He was determined to catch the assassin himself and put it all right.

"Give the informant whatever he wants," Kabrok ordered.

* * *

><p>Back on Earth the informant received the payment just as Alkrad came out of the closet.<p>

"What is that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Information," the informant said casually. "The Doctor is still in the main area of the library."

Alkrad looked at him suspiciously for a moment before venturing into the library himself. Once he was sure that the Plasmavore was out of sight, the informant looked at the vortex manipulator once more and entered the requested information.

* * *

><p>"There he is," the Judoon pointed to a flashing red dot on a map of Earth.<p>

"Where is it?" Kabrok asked, Earth geography wasn't one of his better skills.

"England," the Judoon answered. "Hiding in a heavily populated area by the looks of it."

"How specific are the co-ordinates?" Kabrok asked, knowing that if they couldn't narrow down the area enough then there was nothing they could do.

"Fairly," the Judoon responded, "the informant confirms that the Vampire Assassin is in a large building."

"Vampire Assassin?"

"The Plasmavore," the Judoon explained. "That's what people are calling him now."

"Right. Is he definitely in that building?" Kabrok asked.

"Affirmative," the Judoon confirmed.

Captain Kabrok grinned to himself, they had him now. "Activate the H2O scoop!"

* * *

><p>The Doctor wandered down the bookshelves, occasionally grabbing a book and flipping through the pages before tossing them over his shoulders. Lisa followed on behind, careful to avoid any flying books.<p>

"Those curtains don't match the walls," The Doctor said suddenly.

"Oh don't start that again!" Lisa cried out. She promptly walked into the back of him when he stopped suddenly.

"This isn't working," he said. "We won't be able to find him like this. We need to split up. We need to gather information separately."

"And how is that going to work? You are the alien expert."

"How long have you been travelling with me?" The Doctor asked rhetorically. "You must have picked up some tricks for separating aliens from humans."

This was true, Lisa had become very skilled at spotting aliens that looked like humans from actual humans. But she wasn't willing to let the Doctor out of her sight at the moment, she wasn't sure that he had fully recovered from his regeneration yet. "I think we would work better as a team," she argued. "Two pairs of eyes are better than one."

"Correct," The Doctor nodded, "which is why you should check the other side. Make sure we don't miss him. We should spread our resources."

Unable to come up with another argument Lisa admitted defeat. "Ok, but be careful," she said.

"I'm always careful," The Doctor grinned back. "Oh and..." he pointed to the curtains, still smiling. They did not match with the wall at all. Lisa opened and shut her mouth a few times before turning to look in the other areas of the library.

Once he was sure she was gone The Doctor leant on the bookshelf and gasped in the pain that he had felt in his stomach; the main reason for wanting Lisa around at that moment. As the pain subsided golden bio-energy flowed from his mouth and evaporated in the air. He rolled up his sleeve to see that his veins were still glowing gold. _What is happening to me?_ he thought. The glow in his veins slowly subsided but the sensation remained. His regenerations were different every time, he knew that, and he had heard of many Time Lords regenerating in strange ways. But he had never heard of anything like this before.

"Doctor!" the shout from Lisa ceased his pondering and rushed out towards where she was. "It's raining," she said.

"It often rains on this planet," The Doctor said, "especially in this country. Now if we had been on Zolfa-Thura then that would be more surprising. Although seeing as Zolfa-Thura was destroyed when I inverted the power of the Dodecahedron I doubt we would be standing there now."

"It doesn't normally rain upwards though," Lisa interrupted him and pointed out of the window.

The Doctor looked outside and agreed that it was indeed raining upwards. "That's not good," he commented, then added. "Well it isn't bad as such, I just would have preferred it if they didn't decide to come down and try to take over when I can deal with the situation perfectly well on my own. If they had brains I wouldn't mind."

"What's going on?" Lisa asked, very loudly to stop The Doctor's commentary on his own statements.

"The Judoon, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to teleport this building up to the moon, at least that is where they took me last time, so they can march in and attempt to capture the Plasmavore themselves," The Doctor explained. "Nothing we can do now, except just wait." He sat down at a desk, propped up his feet and put his arms behind the back of his head. Then he started singing again.

* * *

><p>The informant needed to be quick. All teleport devices were jammed once the H2O scoop was activated, but there was a short period before this jam came into effect. He tapped buttons on his vortex manipulator knowing that if he wasn't quick enough he would be in as much danger as Alkrad. He was about to activate it when a knife slammed into it, preventing its activation. He looked up to see Alkrad bearing down on him.<p>

The informant grasped and held Alkrad's wrists and held them in a stalemate, if he yielded Alkrad would likely kill him with blades in his hands, but if Alkrad yielded then the informant could easily turn his own blades on him.

"You did this!" Alkrad roared. "Why?"

"Shush, we are in a library," the informant replied casually.

"All the things we have done together, everything we have been through, and you still sell me out to the Judoon," Alkrad snarled, more quietly this time.

"You're a loose cannon, Alkrad," the informant shrugged. "Better to cut my potential losses now and gain an immediate income from the Judoon."

"And you think people will work with you after this?" Alkrad hissed.

"People are always in need of information," the informant smiled. "Clients come and go, but the informants remain."

Alkrad tried to force his blades into the informant but he stood firm. "I killed for you!"

"That was the final straw," the informant nodded. "For all your morality on only drinking when necessary and only from those that are long dead, it didn't take much for you to kill someone for their blood."

"You implied that..."

"I was testing you," the informant snarled, showing anger for the first time. "Every man has a price, and you proved that your price is very small."

"Like yours?" Alkrad said sarcastically.

"You do not know what the Judoon paid for me to sell you out," the informant said gravely. "My price is much higher than yours, I can assure you. But what are you going to do now? In the time you have wasted threatening me you have removed your window for escape. Teleporters will have been jammed by now, so your only method of escape is for you to get out of the H2O scoop before they take us to the moon." He released his grip on Alkrad's wrists and the Plasmavore stepped back cautiously.

They eyed one another briefly, Alkrad with hatred and the informant with a smirk. They started off with small steps backwards, not daring to turn their back on the other. Alkrad allowed the knives to disappear back into his skin but gave the impression that he could bring them back in milliseconds should the need arise. Almost as suddenly as they had been cautious previously, they turned and fled in opposite directions. The informant hoped to make it out the main entrance before the time was up whilst Alkrad went straight for a fire escape.

As the informant reached the main entrance hall he was accosted by several members of staff who were both scolding him about running in the library, and trying to ask him questions for a survey. Once he was able to break free of them he realised that he was too late to get out of doors in time, even if he sprinted as fast as he could.

Alkrad shoulder barged the fire door several times before it finally opened on him. he sprinted outside as quickly as he could. He made it outside of the building, but he didn't manage to get away from the H2O scoop. As he ran he found the terrain change into a grey sand. He found that the gravity had suddenly decreased. He crashed into the force field surrounding the building and bounced backwards into the wall of the library. Realising that he was now on the moon he cursed vehemently in his native tongue. With a snarl he made his way back inside. Opposite the fire exit the Judoon rocket slowly unloaded its battalion.

* * *

><p>The Judoon's entry into the library was very similar to their entrance into many other buildings that they have abducted over the years. The standard march came to an end with them stood in the entrance hall surrounded by cowering humans. Kabrok removed his helmet and got one human to confirm the language that they were using, upon assimilating the correct language he informed them of what was about to take place and started the search for the Plasmavore.<p>

Each Judoon scanned an individual to determine that they were in fact human. This initial scan was then checked by a more thorough scan from a second Judoon. Kabrok was well aware of the Plasmavore's ability to assume the genetic structure of another species so was determined not to let this fool them again. While the basic scan could be fooled, the Plasmavore would need to drink a lot more blood in order to fool this second scan.

"Scan the second floor," Kabrok ordered, a group of Judoon made their way up the stairs towards where more humans were located. The informant hid behind the door as they went past and only came out once they were definitely out of sight. He briefly marvelled at the stupidity of the creatures before rushing off to another part of the library.

* * *

><p>"And it's rainin' all over the world!"<p>

"What's the plan then?" Lisa asked, interrupting The Doctor's singing.

"Run around for ages trying to find the Plasmavore, trick it into assimilating my blood rather than a human's so that when it gets scanned it will be caught," The Doctor said but then shook his head. "You won't be able to resuscitate me like last time and the chances are that all the oxygen will run out by then. Also this Plasmavore is a trained assassin so is likely to be better at avoiding that sort of trouble."

"Reminiscing about previous adventures is not going to help us now," Lisa said. "The Judoon are on our side aren't they? Why don't you just go and talk to them."

"Not really my style, going to others for help," he mused.

"How would you know?" Lisa queried. "You haven't been in this incarnation for very long."

"That's what we'll do then," the Doctor jumped to his feet. "I'll team up with the Judoon and find this Plasmavore before breakfast. May as well use them as they are here."

"Ok you do that."

"What are you going to do then?"

"Try and keep everyone calm," Lisa suggested.

"That is a good idea," The Doctor nodded. "If any of them decide to attack a Judoon out of fear they will find themselves being executed."

After realising that he wasn't joking Lisa ventured further into the library. The Doctor stood up and strode towards the oncoming Judoon. "Hello!" he said cheerfully.

* * *

><p>Alkrad watched from a distance as the Judoon entered the library. The emotions that ran through his mind ranged from anger, hurt and feelings of betrayal towards the informant, hope that the informant was still inside so that he could enact some vengeance, and to his surprise fear. He was trapped in a relatively small building (compared to many of the ones that he had performed missions in, in the past) that was filling up with a huge group of aliens that were determined to kill him.<p>

The anger and betrayal slowly melted away to allow the fear to fully manifest itself. Fear brought forth despair. He turned and walked off down the corridor trying to keep his emotions in check, he was a fearsome killer after all he didn't allow fear to take control of him. He would trick the scan, there were plenty of humans to do that and then take out his vengeance on the informant and complete his contract on The Doctor. It was simple.

Who was he trying to kid? The informant was right, he had no morals. He was just a ruthless killer like all Plasmavores. He couldn't trick the scan forever and as a Judoon had seen him before he left they were not likely to be solely relying on that. He collapsed to the floor and put his head in his hands. He was going to die today and there was very little he could do about it.

"Are you alright?" he looked up to see a blonde teenager standing over him.

"My friend's abandoned me, I'm going to die," he moaned.

"It's going to be ok," she said reassuringly.

"Is it?" he said bitterly. "They are coming and they will kill me."

The girl sat down next to him and put her hands on his shoulders. "Listen to me," she said. "No one is going to hurt you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I won't let them," she assured him.

Looking both ways, Alkrad noticed that they were alone. He could kill her now, no one would know, no one would stop him. She pulled her arms away but he held it there as if for assurance. Out of his skin a thin metal tube appeared in his hand, his straw was specifically designed to be used as a killing weapon as well as a method of feeding. He could feel her pulse through his wrist, almost egging him on. She smiled at him. He couldn't do it, that would prove the informant right. It would prove that he was a monster. He allowed the metal straw to disappear back into his skin.

"I'm Lisa by the way," she said.

"Al," he said.

* * *

><p>The Judoon surrounded The Doctor. "I'm going to make this easy for you," he said loudly to get their attention. "I am a non-human so you don't need to scan me. Just take me to your leader. That's three times I've said that now, who says that it's clichéd, eh? I'm over three thousand years old yet I have only said it three times."<p>

He ceased in his out loud musings when heard the sound of the Judoon's weapons cocking. "You are the non-human, your sentence is execution. We hold the right to act as judge, jury and executioner. You have no right to a solicitor, you may not appeal, you may not apply for the right to be tried by a jury of peers."

"Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for," The Doctor commented.

"Your final words are noted," The Judoon stated. "Sentence to be carried out! Sentence: Execution!"

* * *

><p><strong>dun dun duh. Please let me know what you think.<strong>


	8. Vampire 3

**Author's note: a big thank you to Son of Whitebeard and Brownbug who reviewed the previous chapter. I would also like to thank all those who have been reading each chapter as I have updated, it would be nice if I could hear from you too.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

The Doctor stood in a circle of Judoon. Each one pointed its weapon towards him in preparation for the execution. The commanding Judoon finished his speech. "Sentence: Execution!"

"What about the case for defence?" The Judoon paused slightly thrown by this question. They had had many final remarks just before an execution, including: 'You can't do this!', 'What about my trial?', 'Please, I didn't mean it!', 'Congratulations on your victory, Judoon, but you are going to burn with me!', 'No, no, no!' and 'I'll sue you for this!'. But never before had they had someone asking about the case for defence.

"Very key part of trial in case I am not mistaken," The Doctor continued. "You cannot sentence someone unless you allow them a chance to defend themselves."

The Judoon looked at one another and came to the conclusion that he was correct. "Very well, but you cannot appeal for a solicitor."

"I don't need one," The Doctor smiled. "I'll defend myself, like I always do."

"Very well, proceed."

"There are many methods of defence that I could use," the Doctor started. "I could highlight that the glove that I supposedly wore to commit the murder doesn't actually fit me. I could point out that the main witness needs a stronger pair of glasses, as she is virtually blind with the pair she has got. I could mention that I was actually on the other side of town when the robbery was being committed and many witnesses can confirm this. I could introduce you to my twin brother, making it impossible to convict me unless you can determine which twin committed the arson. I could refer you to Article 17 of the constitution..."

"You are stalling for time!" the Judoon growled.

The Doctor nodded before continuing. "But I think I am going to settle for: I am not a Plasmavore, I am the man who is trying to help you find it."

The Judoon hesitated for a moment. "Well you would say that," the leader said uncertainly.

"Stand aside!" the Judoon shuffled to one side to allow the new Judoon to enter the circle. It was the helmetless Captain Kabrok. "You are The Doctor!" he stated.

"I also go by: Doktor von Wer, The Oncoming Storm – not a fan of that one – Grandfather, Little Precious – my mum's nickname for me obviously – Theta Sigma, The Destroyer of Worlds – again, not one I am fond of – Merlin, Sweetie, Zeus, Mr. Spock, That Bastard – I like that one, used a lot by enemies who are ordering minions to get me – Spartacus, Doctor Vile, Doctor Foreman, The Supremo, You Slippery Bastard – another favourite of my enemies – Maximus Pettulian, Luke Skywalker, Scarecrow, Fancy Pants, Professor, Thief, Dandy, Clown, Tall bloke, Skinny Bloke, Shorty, Thorn, oh and John Smith of course," The Doctor grinned. Amazingly Kabrok didn't seem particularly fazed by this.

"Stand down," the Judoon captain ordered. The rest of the Judoon obliged.

"It is very nice of you to come here to help me," the Doctor grovelled, "but I didn't actually need you, and how did you know I was here anyway?"

"We were tipped off," Kabrok explained. "It wasn't cheap mind, Vykro wouldn't have approved." He looked down sadly.

"Well that complicates things," The Doctor muttered. "So there is an informant in this library somewhere?"

"Possibly," Kabrok shrugged. "We could not trace their location."

"That means there could easily be another non-human among us," The Doctor said.

"What makes you say that?"

"Do you really think that a human would be able to contact your rocket?" The Doctor asked rhetorically.

Kabrok thought about this for a moment. "No, I suppose not. Aren't you with someone?"

"Oh you mean Mona?" The Doctor said, and then clutched his head in one hand. "No that isn't right, bloody regeneration." He coughed violently and expelled bio-energy out of his mouth, once this was over the pain receded. "That's better. Lisa is trying to keep everyone calm. We don't want anyone panicking and assaulting one of your officers, resulting in an execution."

"That isn't the punishment for assaulting an officer anymore," Kabrok informed him. "They only get a slap on the wrist now."

"Oh, so a minor fine," The Doctor realised.

"No they get a slap on the wrist."

The Doctor considered this and decided that a slap from a Judoon would probably be enough to break the person's wrist. "Well anyway," he clapped his hands together. "You are here now, we may as well make the most of our respective expertises. I'll be the brains, and you can be the brawn."

"We are scanning all individuals at phase two," Kabrok informed him.

"That might work," The Doctor conceded. "But let's assume for a moment that he does fool your scanners, you will need my expertise to help find him then."

"What is your plan then, Doctor?" Kabrok asked.

* * *

><p>The informant wandered through the empty corridors of the library, carefully avoiding contact with any other beings in the library. He would try to act naturally should any humans come across him, but hid as soon as he saw any Judoon. He paused by a window where he found a fly hiding on the sill.<p>

"I'm going to need your eyes," the informant said. "I need you to scout ahead and warn me of any Judoon coming round the corner."

The fly buzzed angrily in response.

"We're both in this together," the informant countered. "They will find you eventually, they may decide to prosecute you for your entering of private property without permission, but it is more likely that they will ignore you. They are more interested in the Plasmavore at the moment."

The fly buzzed again, clearly unconvinced.

"Well it's different this time," the informant countered. "Last time it was only a routine criminal hunt. This time it is personal... Because the Plasmavore they are after is a cold blooded assassin who killed the Shadow Architect and the Judoon colonel... Say that again... It was an assassination, no one knows why. Not even Alkrad... Alkrad's the Plasmavore... The plan? We both want to evade the Judoon. I am a lot bigger than you are and fit the description of the species they are trying to scan. You are smaller and more agile, and more likely to avoid detection. I would need you to scout ahead to allow me to make a safe passage back to the entrance where the Judoon have hopefully finished."

The fly gave a warning buzz. The informant whipped his head round just in time to see a Judoon point its scanner at him.

"Non-human!" it declared.

"Run!" the informant shouted. He sprinted under the Judoon's outstretched arms and knocked its weapon so that it harmlessly hit the ceiling. "You still with me fly?" he shouted as he ran down another corridor, the fly buzzed a confirmation. "Good, We're going to have to be more careful from now on."

* * *

><p>The Doctor walked through the library alongside captain Kabrok, keeping an eye on all the people that were being scanned. So far he hadn't noticed anyone who could be a Plasmavore in disguise. So far no one had been foolish enough to attack one of the Judoon, Lisa had obviously done a good job at calming them. He didn't stop to wonder where she actually was at the moment, his mind was slightly preoccupied.<p>

Kabrok suddenly paused in his tracks and listened to a transmission from one of his constables. "We have located a non-human," he informed The Doctor. "All troops converge on the co-ordinates..."

"Belay that!" The Doctor shouted. "How many scans did it take to determine that he was a non-human?" he asked the Judoon at the other end of the radio.

"First scan," the Judoon stated.

"First scan," The Doctor repeated. "So the Plasmavore made no attempt to disguise his DNA?"

"This is not the Plasmavore," Kabrok realised.

"Twelve out of ten!" The Doctor exclaimed. "This must be our informant."

"We should put him under protective custody," Kabrok stated.

"No, from what your colleague said it appears that he is trying to evade you as much as the Plasmavore," The Doctor shook his head. "You would end up wasting your own time and resources, making it easier for the Plasmavore. No, I'll go to him. I'll convince him of his safety."

Kabrok nodded, allowing The Doctor to disappear off on his own. Once he was alone once more he leant on a bookshelf and sneezed; expelling vast amounts of bio-energy in the process. Once he had done this he straightened up and was relieved that the sharp pain across his forehead was gone. In fact his head was the clearest it had been since his regeneration. But with this clearness he could suddenly sense something. A presence that he hadn't felt in a long time. He rushed off to find the informant.

* * *

><p>Alkrad cowered in a small corner of the library. He had just about given up hope. Regardless of what happened here now he would eventually be caught by the Judoon and executed. He was beginning to think that this was an appealing option, end it all quickly.<p>

He rubbed the imprint of Sundew on his neck, and wondered what loyalty truly meant. He had been a loyal member of the organisation for years yet in this moment of certain doom there was no sign of any help. It was certain that they would abandon him and just send another to take his place. There was no true loyalty at Sundew. There was just assassins and the superiors. If you failed then the superiors would deal with you.

Lisa had assured him that she wouldn't let anyone hurt him, but he wondered how strong her protection would be. She was currently helping others who were as scared as him but she would soon return, she had promised. It was strange, he mused, that in this moment of peril he was finding comfort in the form of a human.

It was lucky that Lisa wasn't around because this was the moment that his vortex manipulator began to beep. He stared at it incredulously. It couldn't be working, the Judoon jammed all teleporters when they seized library, didn't they? He rolled up his sleeve and allowed his vortex manipulator to escape from his flesh. It was a message, it hadn't occurred to him that, whilst the teleport capabilities had been jammed, the communicator would still be working.

He tapped it a few times answer the call. "Alkrad," a voice from the communicator said. "We have been monitoring your activities. We are aware that you have been cornered by the Judoon."

Alkrad didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was his superior. Sundew was always loyal to its assassins, they never just abandoned you to your fate.

"The odds are stacked against me," he replied. "Even if I kill The Doctor, I cannot see myself taking on entire platoon of Judoon."

"You don't need to take out the Judoon," the superior said. "Master Quanchi has found a way to break into the H2O scoop."

"You can get me out?"

"We can send a signal that will cancel out the Teleport jammer for a brief period of time. You can use that window to teleport out," the voice explained.

"Good, do it," Alkrad urged.

"No."

Alkrad froze, all ecstasy completely vanishing. "What do you mean no?" he breathed.

"Your target is still in the library," the superior explained. "Why not take this opportunity to deal with him. It takes a lot of energy for Master Quanchi to cancel out a teleport jammer and he isn't likely to do it for an assassin who runs away from an opportunity to take down a target now, is he?"

"You won't get me out until I complete my contract," Alkrad realised.

"That is correct," the superior replied, "you know the policy that deals with failure."

"Is there a contract on an informant who simply goes by the name of: the Informant?" Alkrad probed.

"There are always contracts on informants," the superior stated. "The one known as the Informant does have a particularly high price on his head. But we will not allow you out for killing him. While there is a contract on his head you must know that we never send anyone out specifically to kill informants as they are too important to us. You will receive extra payment for killing him obviously, but you need to kill The Doctor in order for us to get you out."

Alkrad nodded as this was what he had been expecting. "Thank you sir," he said.

"Do not contact us again until you have completed your contract," the superior answered, not acknowledging the thanks. "I shouldn't have to tell you not to try to lie. We will know if you do so."

Alkrad allowed the vortex manipulator to return into his flesh. He jumped to his feet, suddenly much more confident than he had done before. He was now powered by drive and instinct. But most of all hope. The knowledge that he had a chance to get out alive drove him to act, the time for hiding was over.

* * *

><p>Alkrad was now 'hiding' inside a cupboard which he had managed to wedge shut from the inside.<p>

"This won't save you Al," Lisa called from the other side of the door. "The Judoon will still find you."

He didn't respond. He was busy gorging himself on the blood he had taken from the girl earlier. The blood was cold by now and had been sitting in bottles to allow it to take up more flavour so the DNA qualities were greatly diminished. But there was still some human DNA there, and it would be enough to fool the Judoon's scan. It did seem a shame to waste all the blood now, but he realised it was a sacrifice he must make.

He put on his ashamed face and slowly opened the door. Lisa was nowhere to be seen. That made things easier for him, being able to navigate the library without trying to fool a human that he was terrified of what was going on. Yet at the same time as being relieved, he found that he was sad that she wouldn't be around to give him comfort; even if he didn't really need it.

He walked down the corridor and was confronted with the sight of Lisa trying to reassure an aging man who appeared to be close to fainting. A part of him was happy to see that he hadn't lost her. She looked up and smiled at him. He apologised and she replied that she understood how frightened he was.

"We are running out of air," she said, indicating the old man's condition.

Alkrad took a breath and came to the conclusion that she was right. "It is getting rather stuffy in here," he commented.

"It's the Judoon," Lisa said standing up. "They have sealed us in with the oxygen we had at the start but have given us no way to rejuvenate that supply when it starts to run out."

"You are very knowledgeable of these creatures," Alkrad commented suspiciously.

Lisa nodded sheepishly. "I have encountered them before." She scratched the back of her head nervously. "It is a long story, I won't bore you with the details."

Alkrad decided not to probe any further, it made sense that even someone on Earth could have had alien encounters considering how often they landed on Earth these days. He turned and saw a pair of Judoon coming down the corridor. He was confident that he would easily get past them, but gave the impression that he was not very confident at all.

"It will be ok," Lisa went over and held his arm reassuringly. "Trust me."

Alkrad nodded in appreciation, feeling slightly guilty that he was deceiving her. The Judoon stepped up and he found himself gripping Lisa's hand in anticipation. She gently squeezed it back in reassurance. The Judoon pointed its scanner at Alkrad and confirmed that he was human. Alkrad breathed a sigh of relief as the Judoon turned and scanned Lisa. Hold on, it didn't mark him to show that he had already been scanned. Then he noticed that the second one was now scanning him.

Alkrad realised that this was a more thorough scan that was designed to catch him out if he tried the trick of assimilating human DNA through human blood. Apparently the Judoon did learn. Alkrad knocked the scanner away and rushed down the corridor no longer caring about pretending to be human.

"Non-human!" the Judoon shouted, getting the result of the scan just too late. "After him!"

The other Judoon ceased its scan of Lisa and joined its comrade in chasing down the non-human fugitive. Lisa stood stock still for several seconds, slowly digesting the new information. She couldn't believe it.

"Al?" she breathed. "Al!" she shouted this time and managed to pull her legs out of their petrified state to follow the Judoon down the corridor.

She quickly caught up with them because they had stopped and were looking around confused. Al was nowhere to be seen. She tried to walk between them but they stopped her in order to finish scanning her. She shouted his name again but there was no response. A single tear dripped to the ground.

"Human! No wait! Non-human!" the Judoon scanning her said.

She turned her head to him in surprise. "What!" she exclaimed.

* * *

><p>The Doctor danced down a corridor towards where he knew the Informant would be. As he came nearer to the location he began to proceed more carefully, the Informant was likely to be alert for any sudden movements. He leant on a bookshelf, pondering on how to approach him. Ignoring the pain in his back that was slowly forming he stepped out into the corridor, his leading foot 'accidently' tripping a man who was running past.<p>

The Doctor looked down at the person he had tripped to apologise. The man looked up at him and he knew that he had found the man he was looking for. He looked like any normal human, with a very normal looking face, a frankly ordinary hair cut, and a clean shaven face. That was how he appeared to the human eye at least. The Doctor could tell that he was not human, he could sense the heart beat of two separate hearts emanating from this individual, for example. He could tell that the eyes had seen through a greater number of years than the owner's body had done; a human may notice this if he looked very carefully and the owner of the eyes weren't trying to hide them. But the main proof that he was not human was that the Doctor could not sense a human mind, and he could sense the vortex energy that lingered on the body.

"Hello Time Lord," the Doctor said with a grin.

The Informant took the Doctor's hand and gladly pulled himself up. "You needn't have done that," the Informant said. "Fly, keep a look out." There was an answering buzz from above them.

"An alliance with a fly?" the Doctor commented.

"It was logical," the Informant shrugged, "we are both at risk from the Judoon and it seemed better to work together than alone."

"I am the Doctor by the way," the Doctor introduced himself.

"I know who you are," the Informant said. "How could I not know about the one who saved our planet, then later destroyed it."

"So you are aware of the Time War. How did you survive?"

"By simply being elsewhere at the time," the Informant said casually. "You didn't think all the Time Lords would have been killed by the destruction of Gallifrey did you?"

"No it turns out all the ones who did survive were killed by the House," the Doctor inwardly cursed his own short-sightedness. "I sent countless signals in an attempt to find surviving Time Lords but I never found any. Why did you never respond?"

"I intended to remain anonymous," the Informant replied. "What is the point in an informant that everybody knows about. I knew we would meet again eventually, we promised each other."

"So you let me think I was alone in the Universe to avoid hindrance to your job of choice?" the Doctor asked not really registering that he had met this Time Lord before.

"You can claim you were alone all that time," the Informant countered. "But you always had a knack for finding companions to aid your eccentricity and keep you company. I was more alone than you were."

"Why what were you doing?" the Doctor said through gritted teeth; not because of anger because the pain in his back had intensified so much.

"I'm not called the Informant for nothing," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I have been buying and selling information, making and destroying friendships, running from various angry officials towards enemy officials, then running from them after selling their information."

"Is that what you were doing in the Time War?" the Doctor queried. "Selling information to the Daleks? No wonder we couldn't win."

"The reason we couldn't win was because I was selling information to both sides," the Informant clarified. "They each knew what the other was doing so blocked each other at every turn making it impossible for anyone to gain a proper foothold."

"Such low morals," the Doctor commented. "And I have seen low morals. The Rani harvesting brain fluid from unsuspecting humans, the Monk tricking Vikings into laying mines to destroy their own allies, although I did manage to stop him before they could be activated, the atrocities of the War Lords, and the Master's many attempts to take over the universe of course... ARGGH!"

He arched his back as the pain became unbearable. Once it subsided he rubbed the area and felt the bio-energy slowly leaking out. The Informant looked at him with sympathy, he had had awful post-regenerative stress after his last regeneration.

"As I had to explain to Alkrad, my price is a lot higher than you would think," he explained. "I sold secrets to the Daleks for an absolute fortune, I am amazed that they were able to pay me each time, whereas the Time Lords got the information for mere pennies."

"Yet you still asked for money."

"It's an expression," the Informant bristled. "I was hardly going to allow Rassilon information for nothing, he hated all renegades. It was a basic agreement for him to leave me alone in exchange for the information I had."

"Did you never wonder about the other Time Lords?" the Doctor asked.

"I knew they were dead," the Informant said sadly. "Apart from a select few."

"There are others?" the Doctor exclaimed, hope filling his body.

"Not anymore," the Informant continued sadly. "They disappeared after receiving distress calls from other survivors. The Corsair was the last to go, I would have gone looking for him but my TARDIS had died and the vortex manipulator I have had to use since wouldn't go to that bubble universe. I never heard anything from him."

"You didn't receive a distress because you had no TARDIS," the Doctor said solemnly. "They weren't going to rescue fellow Time Lords, they were being lured by an evil entity that would eat their TARDISes and then kill them. When did Corsair die?" he added out of interest.

"About a decade ago," the Informant informed him. "Why?"

"As far as I'm concerned he died about two millennia ago," the Doctor replied. "No wonder I haven't encountered you before. You started looking for me and accidently got my future self."

The Informant shrugged. "I shall tell you, without need of payment that Alkrad isn't just here to hide from the Judoon," he said. "He is here to kill you."

"Him too?" the Doctor wasn't as surprised as the Informant had expected. "Obviously a determined employer."

"You've been targeted before? Figures," the Informant said, mirroring the Doctor's minimised reaction. "I am sorry, I led him to you."

"Well thank you very much," the Doctor said with a genuine smile. "I was already looking for him. Why did you then choose to sell him out?"

"Combination of reasons," the Informant replied, masking his surprise over the Doctor's knowledge. "He proved to me that, despite his claims of being incredibly moral for a Plasmavore, he was no different from the rest of his species. It only took the promise of some blood for him to kill a girl, not completely innocent girl obviously but he had refused at first because there was nothing in it for him. And he is dangerous. He knows how to kill a Time Lord."

"It is nice to see that Sundew are training their assassins properly," the Doctor commented.

"Time Lord slaying isn't actually in the syllabus," the Informant explained. "He went and found that out for himself."

"Yes, don't you see," the Doctor enthused. "They taught him to think for himself. Look up something if he doesn't know it."

"Anyway, I suggest we make it to a safe area, like the entrance hall and allow the Judoon to deal with him," the Informant said.

The Doctor coughed violently, spraying bio-energy across the carpet. "What do you know about regeneration?" he asked.

"The basics, each Time Lord gets twelve regenerations," the Informant answered, "after each one there is a fifteen hour period in which excess energy lingers around the body causing you some pain in the form of aftershocks but ultimately ensuring you get through the most unpredictable stage, where your body could fail, with as little fuss as possible. I am currently in my fourth life."

"That's always a good one," the Doctor butted in happily. "My fourth one was very enjoyable, possibly the best one I ever had."

The Informant nodded in agreement. "I'm not sure what else I can tell you unless you simply require another opinion on your latest face."

"No I have it on good authority that my latest face is fine," the Doctor responded. "I am concerned about my actual regeneration though and your opinion would be welcome. I have never experienced a regeneration like this. The fifteen hour period has elapsed yet I am still suffering aftershocks, as you may have noticed. The actual regeneration was also strange, it didn't all happen at once, each body part changed at its own pace and at different times. For instance my arms changed several hours after my legs which in turn didn't change simultaneously."

"Hmmm," the Informant thought about this. "I can't say I have come across a regeneration like that before; you have had a lot more than me so should have a better idea than me. I have heard that they become erratic towards the end of the cycle, though. How many have you had."

"If I knew I would tell you," the Doctor said. "I honestly have lost count. Possibly eleven or seven."

"Well the Corsair..."

"I wouldn't listen to the Corsair," the Doctor interrupted. "He was an hermaphrodite so regenerations worked differently for him."

"He once knew a Time Lord," the Informant continued regardless, "who had the leg and a couple of fingers that belonged to his previous life; and he had started regenerating a few years before that."

"Why was that?"

"He wasn't sure himself, it could have easily been a rare form of regenerative stress that sometimes occurs," the Informant shrugged. "But he thought that the most likely reason was because of the..." He never finished.

Two spikes shot through his back and ruptured his hearts simultaneously. His eyes widened from shock and he gave off a strangled gasp. Blood welled up in his mouth and was soon joined by a golden substance. He tilted his head back and spread his arms out as if he were undergoing a regeneration , but no energy exploded from his body. The bio-energy in his mouth sprayed out half-heartedly showering himself in blood before he became still. The spikes were retracted and the Informant collapsed to the floor. Dead as a doornail.

Stood behind him was Alkrad, the Vampire Assassin. He sneered at the body of his former colleague before spitting on him in contempt. He turned his attention towards the Doctor and with a shriek lunged forwards. Out of his leading arm the fork shot out, still stained with the Informant's blood. The two prongs headed directly towards the Doctor's hearts.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: to Brownbug, I was both delighted by how much you liked the character of the Informant and disheartened because I knew what was to come. Now that you know too I can only apologise and pray that you can forgive me for this surprise twist.<strong>


	9. Vampire 4: Confrontation

**Author's note: thank you once again to Son of Whitebeard and Brownbug who reviewed the previous chapter. Also hello to PhoenixWormwood137 who recently joined us with a review of chapter 2, hope I see more reviews from you in the future.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

Alkrad stalked through the library, carefully changing the colour of his skin to make it harder for his pursuers to spot him. It was through sheer dumb luck that he came across the Informant and the Doctor. He heard a buzzing and spotted a fly hovering over his head. This wouldn't have normally attracted his attention but the fact that this fly was staring directly at him with confusion, clearly wondering why this human was taking on the same colour scheme as the wall, and ignoring everything else. Then he heard the Informant's voice as well. The fly turned and flew directly towards where the voice was coming from.

Realising that this fly must be working with the Informant (he had come across stranger relationships) he quickly produced his straw, pointed it at the fly and sucked as hard as he could. The power of a Plasmavore's lungs was perfectly illustrated in this moment. The fly, despite already being several yards away, was pulled back through the air and jammed in the end of the straw. It wriggled about frantically, struggling to get free but it was hopeless. Alkrad sucked again and the fly ceased its wriggling and died as its fluids were sucked from its body. Alkrad allowed the withered husk to fall to the ground and spit the fluids he had just sucked up onto it; he had no desire to drink fly blood, he wasn't that desperate at the moment.

He crept towards the sound of the Informant's voice and rounded the corridor to see him talking to another man. Alkrad recognised him as the Doctor. The Doctor didn't notice him he was too busy hanging onto the words of the Informant.

"I am currently in my fourth life," the Informant said. The Doctor delightedly informed him that the fourth life is often the best one.

Alkrad digested this information, this must mean that the Informant was a Time Lord himself. That explained why he only ever went by the name: the Informant. Most other assassins would be daunted by the task of killing two Time Lords, but not Alkrad especially not now; they were his ticket out of here. Fortunately he had the perfect weapon to deal with Time Lords and they were currently distracted.

"He wasn't sure himself, it could have easily been a rare form of regenerative stress that sometimes occurs," the Informant shrugged as Alkrad stalked forwards. "But he thought that the most likely reason was because of the..." Alkrad lunged forwards, his two-pronged trident extending out of his palm, and stabbed him through the back, striking both hearts simultaneously.

He allowed the Informant's dead body to collapse to the floor then immediately turned on the Doctor who was too gobsmacked to react. He gave a shriek and lunged forwards, knowing full well that his trident couldn't fail to strike his targets.

* * *

><p>The Doctor acted on pure instinct. He grasped the points of the trident and managed to keep it steady millimetres from his skin. The Plasmavore's eyes widened in surprise which quickly changed to anger as he renewed his efforts to kill his target. The Doctor and Alkrad wrestled with the weapon for several minutes, neither one gaining the upper hand. The Doctor slowly became aware of a burning sensation in his throat.<p>

"No," he gasped. "Not now!" He struggled to contain the energy whilst staving off the attack at the same time, he knew he would be helpless in the event of an aftershock.

Alkrad could sense his opponent weakening and redoubled his efforts, the trident now touched the Doctor's jacket and slowly began to pierce the material.

"It is pointless to resist," he mocked. "I will get you eventually but this way it will be slow and painful. I can make it quick."

The Doctor could hold on no longer. He violently expelled bio-energy from his mouth which landed on the trident. He followed this up by twisting slightly. Alkrad stumbled forwards and knocked the Doctor into a bookshelf. Alkrad looked down and was horrified to see that the end of his trident had been broken off, the Doctor in turn looked down in confusion to discover that he was holding the trident head.

Alkrad stared at him in horror for a few seconds before slowly turning and fleeing. The Doctor raised his eyebrows over the whole encounter, apparently his aftershock at that moment was a good thing. He bent down to the Informant's body and gently closed his eyes making him look peaceful, despite the grisly nature of his sudden death. The Doctor did not stand up when the Judoon stomped down the corridor towards him.

"What happened, Doctor?" Kabrok asked.

"What happened, captain," the Doctor said surprisingly calmly, "is that you were not here to stop him."

"You told us you would deal with him alone," Kabrok replied.

"Yes, but you were supposed to be finding the Plasmavore!" the Doctor jumped up suddenly angry. "You should have been here to stop him and now look what he has done."

"Is that our informant?"

"Not just any informant," the Doctor said solemnly. "He was _the _Informant."

"I don't understand."

"Well I can't expect you to understand, can I? I discovered today that I was not the last of the Time Lords. I discovered that I was not alone. But then it was cruelly taken away from me and I became the last of the Time Lords once again."

"He will get a proper burial," Kabrok stated.

"No he won't," the Doctor shook his head. "I am going to prepare a funeral pyre for him. The proper Time Lord death honour."

Two Judoon strode down the corridor, holding a female human in between them. The Doctor's eyes lit up when he realised that it was Lisa. The Informant had been right about one thing, he hadn't been completely alone and it was nice to see that he still had his constant companion. _That makes her sound like a dog, _the Doctor realised, _that isn't right. She is my friend._

"This is the human that we mentioned," one of the Judoon said.

"The one that registered as both human and non-human?" Kabrok clarified.

"As I keep telling you," Lisa complained, "your equipment must be faulty."

"There is nothing wrong with our equipment," Kabrok stated.

"I can confirm that she is a human," the Doctor chimed in. They grinned at one another briefly but could each tell that there was something troubling the other.

Kabrok finished his level 5 scan of her. "Confirmed: human with traces of non-human, specifically Plasmavore, DNA on body," he stated. The Judoon guards released her.

She walked up to the Doctor. "Did the Plasmavore kill him?" she asked gently, indicating the Informant's dead body. He nodded slowly. "I was afraid of that."

"He was a Time Lord," the Doctor revealed.

"What! How!" Lisa knew that the Doctor was the last of his kind so this revelation that there had in fact been another one around the whole time was quite shocking, along with the fact that this Time Lord had died rather than regenerating. "What about the regeneration."

"He was stabbed through the hearts simultaneously," the Doctor explained. "We cannot survive that, it's too quick." He suddenly seemed to cheer up. "But enough about my troubles, what's up with you?"

"Al's the Plasmavore," she said simply.

"That must have been the Alkrad that he mentioned," the Doctor mused. "Why is that so upsetting?"

"I was with him," she explained. "I thought he was a human who was having a panic attack so I was trying to comfort him."

"He was having a panic attack was he?"

"Well it looked like a panic attack," Lisa complained. "He was constantly moaning about how he was going to die, and that the Judoon were going to kill him. He could have been pretending the whole time I suppose, but it did seem genuine."

"Didn't you notice the symbol of Sundew on his neck?" the Doctor asked.

"There was a tattoo on his neck," she nodded, "but it wasn't the symbol of Sundew. It was a sun, although the rays looked slightly oval."

"Ah, I forgot that humans think that stars look like a pointy pentangle sort of shape," the Doctor muttered. "That is the symbol of Sundew, a star (or ball of fire to you humans) surrounded by a ring of tears."

"Oh well easy mistake to make," Lisa muttered.

"Were you with him the whole time?" the Doctor queried.

"Most of the time," Lisa nodded.

"Strange that he never tried to drink your blood," the Doctor commented. "He would have had ample opportunity, he was cuddling you and everything. Unless he had already drunk."

"He managed to trick the first scan," Kabrok informed them. "But it was easily uncovered by a second scan."

"And we have found no dead bodies other than the Informant," the Doctor continued. "So he must have had a supply somewhere. Old blood, as it was only able to fool the basic scan."

"He did disappear into a cupboard at one point," Lisa remembered.

"Was that before or after he was hugging you?"

"After."

"So rather than choosing to drink from you he goes and drinks from a supply that would provide weaker protection than from drinking you. This Plasmavore is becoming an increasingly illogical being. How genuine do you think his distress was?" he asked his companion, an idea forming in his head.

"It seemed genuine at the time."

"You need to think," the Doctor said firmly. "Don't let any of these events affect your judgement, was he genuinely scared?"

Lisa tried to think but it is always difficult when everyone is staring at you expectantly. The Doctor sympathetically looked away and found his eyes resting on the Informant once more. He thought back to the time before Gallifrey had been destroyed to see if he could remember him. He was pleased when one memory did come to the surface.

* * *

><p><em>[Flashback]<em>

The Doctor strode down the great corridor of the main Citadel of Gallifrey towards where his TARDIS was parked. Normally if a Time Lord had dared to park inside the Citadel like this they would return to find a massive clamp across the doors and a parking ticket. The Doctor had always managed to get away with this though, he only normally turned up when he was summoned back or when he knew that Gallifrey was in trouble. But nowadays he got away with it because the President was one of his old friends.

Romana had travelled with his fourth incarnation for several years before trapping herself in E-space in order to help save a species of time sensitive beings from enslavement. She had escaped eventually and had immediately taken up the position of Lady President, so the Doctor could basically do what he liked whenever he returned; including illegally parking in the Citadel.

The Doctor had come down once he had heard about Romana's survival of her first year in office in order to be present for her Reaffirmation Ceremony. He had been late of course but the Lady President had cleverly delayed the proceedings to allow him the time to arrive. Now that it was all over (including destroying the alternative Gallifrey in order to hold the Faction paradox at bay, but that is a different story) he was quietly making his exit.

As he headed towards the TARDIS he came across a young Time Lord dressed in black ceremonial robes, the sort that a student would wear. "You aren't one for goodbyes are you?" the student said.

The Doctor was slightly surprised by his astuteness. "My work here is done, there isn't much need for me to hang around now."

The student nodded in agreement. "Just between you and me I don't think that the Faction Paradox is gone for good. I believe that they will be back." He looked both ways to make sure that no one was listening in. "But despite this they are nothing. This is part of a longer war that no one even knows is happening yet, a war that even you will not be able to stop."

"How do you know so much?" the Doctor asked suspiciously.

"Knowledge is power," the student tapped his nose.

"You hacked into the Presidential files, didn't you," the Doctor said.

The student blinked a few times before reluctantly nodding. "And the matrix," he admitted. "But that means it must be true! The Enemy which Gallifrey is at war with are simply puppets of another who are trying to cripple us in preparation for their war with us."

"People are always trying to conquer Gallifrey," the Doctor responded. "But I will keep what you say in mind, thank you." He strode over to the TARDIS and opened the doors. He turned round as he entered to see the student watching with a combination of awe and envy.

"What is it like?" the student asked.

"Travelling through time and space? Seeing the rise and fall of countless civilisations and enjoying the wonders that the universe has to offer?" the student nodded. "It is brilliant."

"I'd like to do that one day," the student said. "Better than sitting around in these cramped, confined castles and gathering dust."

"They tend to leave old TARDISes unattended in cargo bay 4271, just behind the rusty sky rocket," the Doctor informed him. "You should be able to steal one of those without anyone noticing straight away."

"Thank you Doctor, I shall do it after my graduation," the student replied.

"When is that?"

"Tomorrow," the student replied.

"Oh, well I trust you know what your new name is going to be," the Doctor said, tactfully not asking what it was going to be.

"Of course, I know exactly who I am going to be," the student said.

"I am sure I will see you again at some point," the Doctor waved goodbye as he shut the TARDIS door.

"I'm sure we will," the student shouted back, then added quietly. "Although I have a strange feeling that it will be the death of me."

He watched as the TARDIS slowly dematerialised.

_[End of Flashback]_

* * *

><p>The Doctor returned to reality gently. He had thought he had recognised the Informant and now he remembered why. If only he had heeded the young student's warning, they might have been more prepared. But either way the Informant had undone any good that it might have done through his actions during the war. The Doctor did wonder though how he had managed to predict his own demise so accurately. Perhaps he was part Pythian. It would explain why he had never tried to come into contact him.<p>

"Sorry, what did you say?" the Doctor realised that Lisa had been talking to him.

"I said yes," she replied, slightly irritated, "he did seem genuinely scared."

"The Informant was his friend," the Doctor thought out loud, "his betrayal will have hit him badly. He was accused of being a monster and he believed him, he hasn't killed anyone to prove him wrong. Realising that he is trapped here with the Judoon he must have panicked, realised that there was nowhere for him to go and closed in on himself."

"Until I brought him back out," Lisa murmured.

"I don't think you were the only factor involved," the Doctor replied. "Something persuaded him to attack."

"Now that you mention it, his fear seemed more forced after he came out of the cupboard," Lisa commented.

"We need to find him," the Doctor declared. "His actions are being determined by someone else."

"Sundew could have come into contact with him," a Judoon suggested.

"Don't be stupid," Kabrok dismissed. "Nothing can breach the H2O scoop."

"Only in theory," the Judoon persisted. "There have been many cases of transmissions passing through a lockdown."

"They were all transmissions from the Shadow Proclamation," Kabrok countered, although not as assertively as before.

"Yes, and I doubt that Sundew have worse communications technology than us," the Judoon responded. Kabrok nodded admitting defeat.

"Ok," the Doctor clapped his hands together in glee. "Sundew have contacted him, offering a way out. He is no longer scared and pessimistic, he feels confident enough to attack and take revenge on the Informant and then attacks me so he can claim the bounty on me. Is there any way for anyone to teleport out of the H2O scoop?"

"No," Kabrok said with certainty, but looked at the clever Judoon to make sure.

"So they are telling him that he will be teleported out," the Doctor summarised.

"Why did he attack you then?" Lisa asked. "Isn't he suspicious of the fact that they haven't teleported him out yet."

"I would assume that they are only willing to teleport him out once he has completed his assignment," the Doctor explained. "Once he realises this is a lie he will have already completed the contract on me."

"They're very determined to kill you, Doctor," Lisa commented with concern.

"I guess my enemies have run out of patience," the Doctor shrugged.

"We have him cornered," Kabrok stated. "You should hang back while we deal with him."

"No I want to confront him myself," the Doctor shook his head. "Lisa, you come too."

He strode off in the direction that Alkrad had fled before the Judoon could stop him.

* * *

><p>"If the Judoon get to him first they will simply kill him without any attempts of interrogations," the Doctor explained as he walked. "We will be unable to gain any information on Sundew leaving us back at square one."<p>

"He can lead us to Sundew where we can find out who is trying to kill you," Lisa added.

"Precisely, but I also get the feeling that he is not completely beyond redemption," the Doctor said carefully examining Lisa's expression. "And from your reaction, I can see that you agree."

"I liked Al," she confessed. "I am not sure that I can believe that he is this bloodthirsty assassin that everyone claims he is."

"He certainly chose not to feed from you," the Doctor observed, "even though your blood would have provided much greater protection than the blood he did use."

"My head is telling me that he is a dangerous individual and I should keep as far from him as possible," Lisa said miserably. "Yet my heart is screaming for me to try and help him."

"Yes," the Doctor turned towards the bookcase as if he was interested in something on its shelf. "It was similar events that put Lizzie off men for the rest of her life, even if I did try to explain I was over 900 years old at the time. I was so much younger back then. She may claim that she didn't care but when she did see me again she tried to kill me so I guess that she was a lot more hurt than she made out at the time. I wonder what would have happened if I had met her in chronological order, it is very strange running from someone because of something you haven't done yet."

"What are you talking about?"

"Can hardly blame her," he continued unheeded, examining a random book from the shelf. "If your father killed your mother out of boredom you wouldn't be normal either. I don't have much sympathy with any of the Tudors really, well apart from Mary, I always thought that history has treated her very unfairly. Make sure you don't fill the empty space I leave."

The Doctor moved on to the next bookcase, and it was lucky that Lisa did not walk into the empty space he had left because at that moment a knife thudded into the bookshelf, quivering slightly from the force of the throw. The Doctor whipped round, quickly examined the blade and glanced to where it had been thrown from. He glimpsed a flicker of movement in the balcony above.

"There he is," the Doctor declared. "Make sure we aren't disturbed," he called back as he ran up the stairs to meet with the Vampire Assassin.

* * *

><p>Alkrad cowered in a small corner by the balcony. He listened to the Doctor's footsteps as they ascended the stairs. It would be easy, he told himself, I just have to stun him and then find a way to kill him before the regeneration can save him. He started to produce another knife from his flesh when he spied Lisa on the floor below. He watched her for several seconds, pained by her distress.<p>

"Alkrad," the Doctor's voice snapped him back to reality. "I admire your resourcefulness, there aren't many ways to kill a Time Lord yet you have successfully found a way; and proven that it works. It must have been difficult to obtain that information, not many people research properly anymore. Fictional Deities, I have been saying that for a long time." Alkrad jumped up and hurled a knife directly at the Doctor's neck. He casually caught it inches before it struck and embedded it in a nearby bookshelf.

"I also have to be impressed by the heartlessness you display," the Doctor continued regardless. "I understand that the Informant was your friend and friends are hard to come by. I should know I have only had 140 friends, although Adam wasn't much of a friend I had to kick him out of the TARDIS, the first companion I ever did that too!"

"He betrayed me!" Alkrad snarled and threw another knife. The Doctor casually caught this one too and also stabbed it into a nearby bookcase.

"He did," the Doctor agreed. "I'm sure he's glad you proved him correct."

Alkrad faltered at this, for the first time he realised the implications of his act of revenge. "He was right," he breathed. "I am a monster."

"Maybe he was," the Doctor nodded. "But I think that he made an error of judgement. I don't believe you are beyond redemption."

"Redemption," Alkrad sneered. "I'm an assassin from Sundew. I have assassinated many beings across the universe, including the Shadow Architect and now a man I once called my friend."

"His betrayal is baffling," the Doctor agreed. "If I didn't know any better I would say that it was a plot device to bring the Judoon here without me uncharacteristically bringing them here myself and to foreshadow a..."

"What are you talking about?"

"Sorry, new incarnation likes to voice his musings out loud. Doesn't always make sense unlike previous incarnations that did at least link what they were saying, and I think humans can be really stupid sometimes. Don't they realise that despite all Apple products being incredibly easy to use, in doing this they compromise the quality of the action that the device was actually created to do. I-pods cost so much more than a Sony walkman yet the sound quality is horribly tinny in comparison and it isn't that much easier to use, people just seem to buy it for the games that you can play on it and because it is trendy; and I'm rambling again, sorry," the Doctor cleared his throat before continuing. "Let me clarify. I don't think you are the monster that the Informant mistook you for. I think there is a chance that you can be redeemed for the crimes you have committed."

"The Judoon will execute me regardless," the Plasmavore shook his head. "My only way out of this is to kill you so that Sundew can teleport me out." He hurled another knife, this time with much more force.

The Doctor, once again, caught the spinning blade but this time threw it straight back at his attacker. Alkrad didn't have time to react. He breathed a sigh of relief when it merely skimmed the side of his head; trimming a few stray hairs.

"Perhaps it was me who was wrong," the Doctor said coldly. "Maybe the Informant was right to think that you are a monster who is only interested in himself. I guess I shouldn't have listened to Lisa's analysis of your character."

"Lisa?" Alkrad glanced down to see Lisa run off somewhere.

"Yes, she did have an effect on you, didn't she," the Doctor said more kindly. "You would have given yourself much better protection from the scans if you had used her blood, yet you chose to use the old coagulating blood you had stored. You don't have to answer, your reaction is enough. The Judoon are likely to execute you regardless, but it is better to go out as a willing victim rather than a notorious fugitive."

"You want me to simply turn myself in?"

"Not just that," the Doctor replied. "I was thinking that you could give us information about Sundew, help the Judoon in their war. Possibly tell me who it is that wants me dead so badly."

"You must know by now that we never know who the contractors are," Alkrad shrugged. "Only our the superiors know who they are. And you think I should turn traitor like the Informant."

"He was an informant, always was. His purpose was to buy and sell information, it took a lot for him to sell you out even with his false assumption," the Doctor said gravely. "And Sundew hasn't exactly been very loyal to you, they don't care about their assassins."

"They are coming back for me," Alkrad argued.

"Only because you have the best opportunity to take out one of their most expensive targets," the Doctor countered. "What have they done for you, apart from transforming you from an efficient predator to a cold-blooded killer; sorry poor choice of words, but you get my point."

Alkrad thought about this for a few seconds. "I would be remembered as a traitor," he said eventually.

"Only by the losing side. The Judoon will paint a prettier picture, they may even alter the sentence."

Alkrad looked down and pondered some more. He weighed up his options and seemed to be coming to a decision when there was a loud crash. Several Judoon burst onto the balcony, Kabrok appeared beside a horrified looking Doctor.

"You are the Vampire Assassin!" Kabrok roared. "You are charged with many counts of murder across Shadow Proclamation worlds, including the Shadow Architect, Judoon Colonel Pindru and Judoon Captain Vykro! You are guilty!"

"NO!" Alkrad screamed in defiance and hurled yet another of his knives at Kabrok. It hit him in the eye, the one vulnerable part of his body, and he dropped to the floor roaring with pain. The Plasmavore turned and quickly ejected several small spheres from his elbow at the one behind him. They hit its chest simultaneously and each discharged a large dose of electricity which grounded through its legs; its weapon went flying out of its hand as it convulsed on the spot. Alkrad now regarded the two Judoon either side of him pointing their weapons at him.

"Sentence: Execution!" they screamed in unison. On 'execution' Alkrad performed a stunt that was famous on Earth for its use by Neo in The Matrix. His upper body, parallel to the ground, was unharmed as the red beams passed on above. Each Judoon was hit by the other Judoon's weapon and was incinerated. Alkrad retrieved the electrocuted Judoon's weapon and fired at another Judoon that was coming to aid his colleagues; killing him too. He turned back towards the Doctor in time to see Kabrok's legs disappearing behind a convenient bookshelf.

"You blundering fool," the Doctor said calmly (which was odd under the circumstances). "I almost had him." the Judoon captain was too busy clutching his eye to answer.

"I have you now Doctor," Alkrad declared triumphantly. "I fail to see how you can survive a full body incineration."

"I'll find a way," the Doctor shouted back, then added quietly. "I always do."

"Not this time Doctor," Alkrad sneered. "You will die, then I will be teleported away before the Judoon are able to overwhelm me." He turned and killed the last surviving member of Kabrok's elite squad.

"They're lying." Alkrad froze and slowly turned around to see Lisa standing beside the bookshelf that the Doctor was hiding behind. She was panting heavily, as if she had been exerting herself heavily, and was swaying ever so slightly.

"Lisa go away," Alkrad said in a faint voice.

"Al, there is no teleport," she panted. "Sundew lied."

"They can get me back," Alkrad said frantically. "They have found a way to break through the H2O scoop."

"They haven't," she insisted. "The Judoon can't do it and they invented the bloody thing. Sundew can't be that much more advanced."

"They may not have been able to teleport in or out of an H2O scoop, but have they managed to establish radio contact with anyone in an H2O scoop?" Alkrad argued.

"Yes!" the Doctor shouted from behind the bookcase.

"Even if you don't believe us," Lisa continued. "I won't let you hurt him. you would have to kill me first."

Alkrad gripped the weapon tightly and showed signs of an inner struggle. "No I don't," he grimaced. "You are struggling from lack of oxygen. I just have to wait for you to pass out."

"Then we will both die," Lisa countered.

The Doctor slowly removed he knife from Kabrok's eye and covered it with some material he had found in his pocket. "You shouldn't exert yourself like that!" he shouted.

"I'm not doing anything?" Kabrok grimaced, confused.

"Yes I understand that _he will be hunted down like a dog_," the Doctor shouted so that Alkrad could hear. "But you need to allow yourself to heal." More quietly he added. "Good cop, bad cop, you must have done something like that in the academy."

"That is an Earth police technique," Kabrok pointed out.

"I think it is working though," the Doctor shrugged. "I know it is personal!" he shouted. "But you need time to recover. No! Don't get up!" he banged on the side of the bookcase and pulled out several books to make it seem as if there was a struggle going on.

"Give up Al," Lisa pleaded. "You can't win this."

Tears began to fall from Alkrad's eyes, the Judoon rifle shook in his hand as he stared into Lisa's eyes. After what seemed like an age he dropped the weapon to the ground with a thump and placed his hands on his head. The Doctor jumped up and caught Lisa as she finally collapsed from lack of oxygen, he gently lowered her to the ground. Several Judoon rushed through the door and pointed their weapons at the Vampire assassin.

"Don't kill him, he's given himself up willingly," the Doctor shouted at the Judoon.

"His sentence has not yet been decided," a Judoon said.

"What?"

"The intention was to capture him and put him on trial if possible," the Judoon explained. "In light of new evidence, that is now a certainty."

"You weren't going to execute him here?" the Doctor asked, still completely baffled by how these Judoon were acting.

"If we could avoid it, yes."

"Doctor, take my vortex manipulator," Alkrad said, indicating his vortex manipulator that had appeared on his wrist. "It contains co-ordinates for Sundew's current base, and I am sure that you will want to get there before the Judoon."

"I am glad you have chosen this path Alkrad," the Doctor said solemnly.

"She will be alright won't she?" Alkrad indicated Lisa's unconscious figure.

"Providing you get out of my sight this instant and stop wasting time with all your questions," he replied not unkindly.

Alkrad nodded. "Tell her..."

"I'm sure she already knows," the Doctor interrupted and turned away from him. The Judoon ushered him away. He looked over his shoulders for one final glimpse of Lisa before she disappeared from sight. He was not sorry for the things he had done, but he couldn't face the prospect of her disappointment.

* * *

><p>The Doctor watched as the rain reappeared signalling that the H2O scoop was reversing to take the library back to Earth. He reasoned that Kabrok was possibly a lot cleverer than many other Judoon he had ever met before, he would go far. His thoughts then turned to his trusted companion, and considered how unlucky she had been with love. He hoped that this adventure wouldnt effect her too badly, he wasn't sure he would be able to cope with this long regeneration without her.<p>

He grimaced and expelled bio-energy from his mouth as his thoughts finally turned to the Informant. His last hope of finding another Time Lord had been destroyed almost as soon as they had reawakened. He should thank the Informant, he did indirectly secure him an opportunity to head to the heart of Sundew where he could finally find out who was trying to kill him.

He breathed in deeply as the library landed back on Earth. Who would have thought that fresh oxygen could taste so good. He would wait for Lisa to recover before he went off anywhere, he owed her that much.

* * *

><p><strong>End of part two<strong>

**Coming next: Part three, Birth of a Nemesis**


	10. Birth of a Nemesis

**Author's note: Thank you to Brownbug for reviewing the previous chapter. I have been looking forward to this part a lot, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did coming up with it.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part 3: Birth of a Nemesis<strong>

Chapter 1

Hiding amongst eons of carefully positioned flotsam is a single asteroid, slowly (so slowly you would be forgiven for thinking that it wasn't moving at all) orbiting a distant star (so distant that it is a mere speck in the distance). Closer inspection of this asteroid reveals that this asteroid is not as deserted as it was first thought. Even with this view of the settlement you would think that it was a small colony of scientists, certainly not worthy of inspection by any of the intergalactic police forces. Which is exactly what you are supposed to think. This is in fact the main headquarters of the Sundew Assassins guild.

Like an ice berg, the base visible on the surface is only a tiny part of this piece of technological genius. The entire asteroid acts as the base with many tunnels stretching off from surface, twisting and turning, almost making the celestial rock unstable. In this way the architect had transformed the entire asteroid into a working base of operations for Sundew; it wouldn't take very many alterations to turn the asteroid into a fully operational spaceship. In fact the boundary between asteroid and space station was becoming more blurred by the day as builders came and made alterations to the superstructure.

Deep inside a stocky, male humanoid descended a lift through the main shaft. He twitched uncomfortably, clearly dreading what he was about to do. The lift came to a stop with a jolt and the doors slid back ominously. The corridor that he walked down was littered with individuals of varying species, although most were humanoid, each carrying varying amounts of weaponry. They each noted the stocky man's appearance in the tunnels and reasoned that something big must be happening.

At the end of the corridor he came to a large set of doors and knocked gingerly. After what seemed like an hour the door slid open. He entered and was carefully scrutinised by many individuals that sat in a circle like a great council.

"Superiors," the man addressed the individuals in the room. He then looked towards the central seat that was currently bathed in shadows, obscuring the occupant. "Master Quanchi. I bring troubling news."

"Garix," the voice of Master Quanchi chided. "There is no such thing as bad news, or good news for that matter, there is only news. Tell us your news."

The Master's philosophical nature really irritated Garix sometimes, especially at times like this, but he tried not to let it show. "Alkrad has been located."

"You mean he is still alive?" A black and red Zygon exclaimed.

"Yes and he is currently at the main Shadow Proclamation base, no doubt revealing our secrets," Garix nodded.

"He failed," the Zygon breathed, struggling to believe that his star assassin could have failed.

"He was targeting the Doctor wasn't he?" Another of the Superiors asked, the Zygon nodded.

"Wrong person for the job obviously," a blue skinned individual commented. "Too weak willed to counter the Doctor's mind games."

"Says who?" The Zygon bristled.

"He has always been weak willed," the blue skinned individual sneered. "You were even able to convince him that we could teleport him out once the job was done."

"That proves nothing, Jarion!" The Zygon roared. "I managed to persuade you that drinking water from Earth could make you lose weight, and look at you."

Jarion rose to his feet in a fit of rage and pulled out a rifle that had been hidden in the folds if his robes. "You go too far Petris!" He shouted.

Petris also jumped to his feet and pointed his right hand, which had cybernetic implants to allow him to fire the stings on his hand like darts, at Jarion. They glared at one another for a few seconds.

"Sit down gentlemen," Quanchi said from the shadows. "Let Mr. Garix finish."

They both reluctantly sat down. Garix was unfazed by this, the Superiors had been known to kill each other over more trivial arguments. "Alkrad's vortex manipulator has been found to be in the possession of the Doctor who is no doubt heading here now. Alkrad did indeed turn himself in so the Judoon won't be far behind."

"We need to evacuate!" another Superior shouted, jumping to his feet. "The Judoon will surely destroy us!"

Other Superiors also jumped to their feet to either argue loudly against this course of action or defend it. They were all silenced when the original Superior suddenly screamed in pain. They all looked to see a thin spike sticking out of his chest. He stared pleadingly towards where Master Quanchi sat before his body began to painfully shrink down into the spike. The spike clattered to the floor with the Superior gone. The other Superiors quickly sat down in order to avoid also falling victim to the Master's lethal weapon.

"This is perfect," Master Quanchi said. "the Doctor will be coming here, right into the den of the lions and we will be ready for him. Return to the surface Mr. Garix, alert us the moment you detect any large waves in the space time continuum, that will be the TARDIS. We shall be ready for him, and with all our best assassins with us we cannot possibly fail to destroy him this time."

* * *

><p>The Doctor leaned against one of the pillars in the main console room. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest and his hat was tipped over his closed eyes. He didn't have a room of his own in the TARDIS, even if he did he wouldn't use it as he preferred to be able to get to the console as quick as possible in the event of unexpected turbulence or anything else that required his delicate touch. Strangely enough this was turning out to be one of his most relaxing sleeps since the zero room had been unintentionally ejected. It was probably due to having all his body parts orientated correctly, his head above his hearts rather than parallel; a sensation that the Doctor personally didn't find very relaxing.<p>

"Doctor." His eyes shot open and his head jerked towards the source of the speech. It was of course his faithful companion Lisa. "You don't always sleep like that do you?"

"I'm beginning to think that I should do it more often," he replied honestly. "Most comfortable sleep I have had in centuries, no make that millennia. Such a long time ago now, first time my regenerations really started to cause me discomfort, I really thought that one would kill."

"So what's the plan?" Lisa cut him off.

"I have extracted the co-ordinates of Sundew's main base from Alkrad's vortex manipulator," he trailed off upon seeing the reaction to the name.

"He didn't feel too much pain did he?" she asked eventually.

"Emotionally he was in absolute turmoil," the Doctor answered. "But in terms of physical pain I doubt he felt much, unless Judoon like to put on handcuffs very tightly."

Lisa raised her eyebrows in shock. "They didn't execute him?" she exclaimed.

"No, apparently Kabrok is a more modern thinker than we gave him credit," the Doctor commented. "He is going to give them information on Sundew which may reduce his sentence to simple imprisonment. The Judoon psychology is very interesting actually, whilst executing certain individuals on the spot for relatively minor offences they simply imprison others, such as Androvax the Annihilator who single-handedly destroyed 12 planets who was merely banished to a swamp planet."

"Are we going to go then," Lisa cut in.

"If you are up for it," the Doctor replied.

"Of course I am," she replied as if she could not think of any possible reason for her not to up for it.

"Then let's go," he declared and bounded over to the console where he began to press buttons all around the central column. He danced about singing a tune from Muppet Treasure Island as he typed in the co-ordinates and flicked switches. His hand hovered over the dematerialisation button. "Sailing for adventure," he sang deeply and pressed the lever. "On the deep blue seeeeeeeaaaaaa," he finished as the TARDIS began to dematerialise.

* * *

><p>The world that the TARDIS materialised on was a barren, desolate wasteland. Rugged grey mountains of rock, lined with frost and dead or dying plant life, made up the landscape. The darkness was almost permanent, the sky becoming a slightly lighter shade of grey when the sun came up, if you could describe it as a sun.<p>

The Doctor bounded out of the TARDIS and looked around in interest. Lisa followed but shrieked, as if she had been dropped in an ice bath, and leapt back through the door almost as soon as she had exited.

"Don't you feel the cold?" she asked the Doctor, no longer concerned by the cold as the TARDIS protected her.

"Well now that you mention it, it is a bit nippy," the Doctor responded as if he hadn't really noticed. He licked the air. "Air is thin too. Very thin."

"I'm going to put something warmer on," Lisa said. "Try not to get into trouble while I am away," she added, although she knew the chances of him staying out of trouble were slim.

The Doctor didn't bother with the customary 'you know me, I'm always careful,' comment as it had completely lost its meaning by this time. He scanned the barely hospitable landscape and caught a flicker of movement. Very slowly a small mammal, not dissimilar to a fox, made its way towards him. It was a pathetic sight, its fur was matted and its teeth were rotten or missing in some cases; it was so thin you could see its ribs. It panted heavily as it had just run a marathon and stared up at the Doctor almost pleadingly with tired, tormented eyes. As it walked it seemed to get slower and slower until it eventually collapsed with no energy left to move. The Doctor wondered over to it and realised that it was dying, moments from death and with that simple realisation a far worse truth was understood.

Lisa exited the TARDIS once more, she still grimaced from the cold but it was nowhere near as bad as before. Half surprised that the Doctor hadn't managed to get himself into trouble, she closed the door behind her as she went over to him. He casually snapped the creature's neck in order to end its suffering before looking up at Lisa.

"This planet is dying," he stated, noting that despite claims of not caring too much for fashion Lisa was wearing a very fashionable winter outfit. "The core has frozen leaving the atmosphere vulnerable to attack from the solar winds, although we are so far from the sun they don't have to worry about that. But we have drifted, or were pushed, so far from the sun that the plants do not have enough light to survive. That in turn causes the entire food chain to collapse eventually causing a mass extinction. I cannot say how far through that process we are but lack of carcasses suggest that there may still be life out there."

"And you can tell all that from one dead fox," Lisa commented.

"I'm a Time Lord, I can sense the lack of volcanic activity," he said. "I can feel that the pull of the sun is very weak, suggesting that we are a long way from it. And I am sure even you can taste how thin the atmosphere is. How long have you known me?" he added in slight irritation.

"Good place to hide the base of an assassins guild then," Lisa commented.

"It will be," the Doctor nodded. "But not yet, we have arrived too early. This is a lifeless rock by the time they land here."

"Not again," Lisa moaned. "You really need to update her at some point, or at least replace some of those dodgy parts."

"I'm getting round to it," he replied defensively. "It is always very sad to come to a planet at the end of its life, makes you realise that everything must always come to an end eventually."

"Except for you," Lisa commented.

"The curse of a Time Lord's regeneration cycle," the Doctor agreed.

"Well we had better leave and hope that the TARDIS gets us to the right time this time," Lisa suggested. "There is nothing we can do here."

She made to leave but stopped when she noticed that the Doctor was staring out into the horizon.

"I sense something," he said upon questioning. "A very familiar sensation."

"Yeah me too," she agreed. "This is not far away from what it was like during the extinction of the dinosaurs."

"Oh that could be it," the Doctor agreed. "Let's go then."

They both turned and made their way towards the TARDIS. Looking back on this event later on the Doctor would blame his continuing regeneration for not sensing the life forms that were watching them. Before the Doctor and Lisa could get close enough to be able to escape into the safety of the TARDIS they were attacked.

Lisa had no idea who the attackers were. All she heard were horrific screams and felt herself being bundled to the ground. She screamed and thrashed about, lashing out with her booted feet. There were a few satisfying crunches as her feet connected painfully with some of her attackers but she was quickly incapacitated. She wriggled about in their grip and bit down on something soft that came too close to her mouth. The roar of pain that followed suggested that it belonged to one of the attackers. It tried to pull itself free but she only bit down harder and used the momentum of this small victory to pull her arms free and lash out with them. She felt a wall of bodies retreat ever so slightly and foolishly began to believe she might actually get out of this. At which point a heavy rock was smashed against the back of her head.

She was stunned momentarily and unwillingly unclenched her jaw enough for the attacker to escape from her grip. The very same attacker then took swift revenge by striking her across the face with so much force that she was thrown to the ground and hit her head badly on another rock. She did not resist as her arms were pulled behind her back once more. She heard the Doctor's voice but could not make out what he was saying as the darkness of unconsciousness took hold of her.

* * *

><p>The Doctor initially fared better than Lisa did. He easily slipped out of the attackers grip after seemingly allowing them to simply grab hold of them and left them sprawling a heap. He then casually blocked or dodged several clumsy attacks from the ones still standing. As a Time Lord he had superior senses to his human companion, most importantly at this moment was his superior night vision, so he could make out his attackers.<p>

They were thin and unkempt, yet had a surprising amount of strength behind them doubled with an incredible determination to capture them; as illustrated by their determined attack on the Doctor and Lisa. This made sense, the Doctor reasoned, their planet was dying and food supplies were wearing incredibly thin, they were bound to go to any lengths to get hold of any food that they could lay their hands on. He had already seen one of them hold up the fox like creature as if it were the world cup, he and Lisa must have seemed like a three course meal in their eyes. The other thing about them that was amazing was that they were looked like Time Lords (as well as humans and many other humanoid species). The Doctor marvelled in between blocks how often the dominant species of a planet ended up looking like this.

Just as he was beginning to overpower them disaster struck. Pain ripped through his chest as bio-energy suddenly swirled around his insides. Distracted he was punched in the chest, amplifying the pain, and bundled to the ground. He made no resistance until the aftershock subsided but by then he was unable to do anything to get out of the more efficient grip that the men had on him. He smiled up at the man that stood before him.

"Parlay?" he suggested. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lisa collapsed on the floor and slowly being tied up.

The man in front of him seemed unimpressed by this statement and promptly knocked the Doctor out.

* * *

><p>The Doctor awoke a few hours later with a splitting headache and a sharp pain in his nose; he could taste a mixture of blood and mucus dribbling to his lips. He tried to sit up and discovered that his hands were bound tightly behind his back and the his feet were tied together; with some heavy grunting he managed it. He was in a cave made out of the same rock as the mountains they had landed on, there was little else to make note of. He tested the bonds that tied him and was disappointed to find that the natives had still retained a skill for tying knots that would trouble Houdini; he would still be able to escape from them but it would take some time, especially with all the aches and bruises all over his body.<p>

As he thought about this, however, he found the pain receding. He looked down to see a soft golden glow across his body, so there was an advantage to having a regeneration that went on for weeks. He grinned as the bio-energy healed the wounds across his body, although for some reason it didn't do anything about his face. He was sure that it would heal eventually. He marvelled at the speed that his arms and legs had restored to perfect condition, it was almost as quick as... as quick as what? He screwed up his face, and grimaced as this caused more pain in his nose, as he tried to remember who it was that had been able heal so quickly. It didn't come to him but he was sure it would become clear eventually.

A groan beside him alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone. He shrieked with joy when he realised that it was Lisa. She looked a mess, her hair was all over the place and was matted with blood. Her glasses were missing, presumable lost during their capture, and her face had several scratches around the eyes as well as a nasty looking lump above her right eye. Her lip was bleeding. She squinted from lack of glasses at the Doctor and smiled thinly.

"I imagine I look as bad as you do," he smiled back.

"They've broken your nose," she replied and struggled into a sitting position, as she was tied in the same way as the Doctor. "And stolen your hat," she added.

He glanced up and realised she was right. "But what do they need a talking hat for?" he wondered out loud. "It's not as if they are going to have any disputes in the workplace other than who gets the last scrap of fox, wolf thingy flesh, and that would just go to whoever grabs it first and can hold back everyone else while he eats it. Not as if they are going to have any intelligent conversations at this stage of their history."

"Any of Houdini's tricks that can be used here?" she asked, ignoring his ponderings.

"Annoyingly the devolution hasn't affected their knot tying abilities," the Doctor replied. "I should still be able to get free but it may take quite a bit longer than I would normally."

"Keep working at it," she urged. "We need to get out of here."

"Always one to state the obvious," he commented.

"Be honest, what are they going to do to us," Lisa asked after several minutes of silence.

"How honest do you want me to be?" he asked in reply.

"Completely honest," she said.

The Doctor nodded. "Okay, they are going to eat us," he said bluntly. "Hopefully they will kill us before they start doing that. They'll probably argue over who gets my brain or your brain, or maybe they decide to argue over hearts or livers I don't know which organ this culture holds in highest regard. At this stage they will probably eat us raw, by simply stripping the flesh off..."

"Okay I get the idea," Lisa jumped in to avoid being sick.

The Doctor sneezed suddenly, expelling bio-energy through his nose painfully snapping it back into place. He gave off a yelp which turned into a giggle.

"What was that?" Lisa exclaimed. "Your nose has fixed itself!"

"Good old bio-energy," the Doctor beamed. "Restoring living tissue whilst destroying nearly everything else. Available at all good retailers."

"Have you always been able to do that?"

"No, it's a result of my regeneration," the Doctor replied.

"Still? Hasn't it been long finished?" she queried.

"No it's still going for some reason," the Doctor answered. "The Informant was about to tell me why he thought my regeneration was taking such a long time when he was killed."

"And you didn't think it was appropriate to tell me this?" she exclaimed angrily.

"I didn't want you to worry too much," he said, annoyed that he had accidently given it away. He had hoped that it would come to a conclusion before she had a chance to find out, he was scared enough without having to worry about her concern too. He heard a noise. "Someone's coming," he realised.

Lisa did not doubt his senses and squinted towards the entrance. She could just make out the blurred individuals that came into the cave. "What are they?" she asked the Doctor. "They look roughly humanoid but I can't tell otherwise."

The Doctor was tempted to tell her that they looked human except that they had four eyes above and below the nose, and their mouth was a vertical slit in their forehead. Instead he said: "They look very human, almost identical to you in fact, or me for that matter. It is amazing the number of dominant life forms that end up looking like us really."

The Leader of the group sneered down at the two of them. "Take them to our leader," he ordered. The Doctor and Lisa were roughly picked up by the two thugs beside him and slung over their shoulders. They did not resist, instead they chose to bide their time and wait for an opportunity to escape. The Doctor was certainly looking forward to meeting the leader, leaders had the advantage over minions of being able to do something if he managed to get them on his side; and with the state that the planet was in he was certain that the leader would jump at the chance to get some help.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: the idea of the TARDIS being unreliable is something that I feel has been heavily underused in the modern series, although it remains unreliable at certain points it feels too reliable to be the same TARDIS from the classic series. I have written this part of the story with that in mind as its comedy effects are sorely missed; here I refer to the Fifth Doctor's constant failed attempts to return Tegan to Heathrow in time for her flight, in one such occasion arriving at Heathrow but several hundred years too early. Please review to let me know what you think.<strong>


	11. Nemesis 2

**Author's note: Thank you to Son of Whitebeard and Brown****bug who reviewed the previous chapter, your comments made my day.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

They were carried through twisting tunnels, the only light coming from suspiciously sophisticated electric lanterns that were hung from the walls. The Doctor took careful note of which direction they were going in, even though he realised that escaping back to the cavern they had been trapped in wouldn't do them any good. Eventually they came into a large open chamber that was busy with thin straggly men, woman and children; they all stopped what they were doing to stare at the captives that were being carried in. They were dropped to the floor and forced to look towards a plastic stool in the centre of the room. Perched upon it was a woman.

Many of the women who may have once been pretty had been horribly weathered by the conditions and left looking like old hags. This woman was no different, although she had somehow resisted the effects and still held certain aspects of beauty in a small round features. Her skin was tight up against her skeleton, and was horribly cracked in places but had avoided the worst of the injuries. Her dark hair almost certainly hadn't been groomed in any way for months, general appearance was the least of her worries at this time, so hung out of control behind her head surprisingly sexily. Her outfit indicated that they were once an incredibly civilised race, at least to the level of Earth, but the rips in the jeans and shirt indicated that it had been a long time ago; unless that was the fashion at the time. She stared at them as if she were bored, tapping her foot childishly.

"So this is the fearsome leader," the Doctor commented.

She raised her eyebrows at this and scrutinised them closely. "What tribe are you from?" she asked.

"Tribe?" Lisa repeated.

"Don't try to play us for fools," she said. "You can try to hide it but we can tell that your tribe has access to a great food supply."

"I'm afraid that there is no great food supply that we are aware of, your majesty" the Doctor said.

"How can that be?" she asked. "You lie. You are far too well fed for that to not be the case."

"The thing is we are not actually from this planet," the Doctor explained. "We came here by accident, your majesty."

"I am not a queen, stop calling me your majesty!"

"What shall I call you then?"

The man behind him struck him on the back of the head. "The Mayor is not your friend, you will not get too familiar with her!" he roared.

"Mrs Mayor he speaks the truth," Lisa spoke up. "We are not of this world, we understand your plight and would very much like to help you."

"There is nothing you can do for us," the Mayor said coldly. "If you do not come from this world then you cannot truly understand our plight."

"I understand your plight very well," the Doctor assured her. "I have seen this many times."

"When did you last eat?" the Mayor asked.

Now that she mentioned it the Doctor realised the he and Lisa had not eaten since yesterday, and that had only been a sandwich. He was absolutely starving. "Nothing since yesterday, we have been very busy you realise," the Doctor answered. "Quite hungry now you must realise."

"Yes we are both hungry as well coincidently," Lisa agreed. "You know what it's like not eating for a whole day."

"Try a week," the Mayor snarled. Satisfied with the effect this had had on the two captives she smiled mischievously. "Don't worry, we know not to waste you. How long did it take for us to finish Sveyn off?"

"Two weeks, Mrs. Mayor," one of the men said. "He had such a lovely tender liver, that brother of mine."

Lisa shuddered in disgust. The Mayor leaped off her stool and crouched in front of her holding her face. "Don't worry dear you'll get used to it. No sorry, we're going to eat you aren't we," she mocked, then caught the scent of her perfume. "Ooh you smell good." She leaned in closer and sniffed hard. "Very good." Lisa tried not to react as the cannibal licked her cheek. "Taste good too!"

"We understand that there has been some disaster here," the Doctor said loudly to draw the Mayor's attention towards him. "You could say that we are experts in that sort of thing, with your help I am certain that we can find a way to solve this crisis."

"That is exactly what they said," the Mayor said angrily pointing a finger at him. "Back when the core finally died and we drifted out away from the sun. They all said that we would get through it and find a way to restore life as we knew it. But this is normal life now."

"Desperately eating everything that moves regardless of the species or even whether they are related to you?" the Doctor raised his eyebrow. "Not much of an existence if you ask me?"

"Well no one is asking you," the Mayor answered matter-of-factly. "It's either that or we die." She sniffed him and licked his cheek in the same, slightly slutty (although not necessarily intentionally), manner she had done with Lisa. "Ooh, you taste good too."

"Yes my mother often said she would gobble me up when I was a child," the Doctor said proudly. "Although that was more to do with how cute I was, I don't think there were ever any cannibal Time Lords. But then again Garad always gave we strange hungry looks when we were in the academy together, I don't know whether it was just me. He did get locked up before he could graduate so it may have been that they realised he had a secret desire to eat all the other Time Lords. Pity they never noticed any other mad Time Lords before they could be unleashed on the universe."

"Yeah, then I would have never met you and I wouldn't be in this mess now," Lisa said snidely.

"No," he agreed. "You would probably have been killed by your fiancée by now, so yes you would have been much better off." He was unaffected by her death glare, even if he was secretly guilty about mentioning him in such a way.

"So what else have we got to eat tonight, lads," the Mayor addressed the room. A burly man stepped out from the crowd, the fox-like creature slung over his shoulder.

"We found Vaux when we encountered them," he said, dumping it on the ground in front of him

The Mayor inspected it closely. Feeling the legs to see how much meat was on the bones. "Very thin," she commented. Her inspection moved to the animal's neck. "Its neck is broken!" she exclaimed. "You actually had to kill it?"

"No we did that, Mrs. Mayor," the Doctor jumped in. "It was inches from death anyway, I thought I would end its suffering."

She shrugged and congratulated the man for a good catch. He shifted about on his feet. "Would it be possible for me to have her heart?" he requested, looking at Lisa hungrily.

"Her heart has been broken far too many times for you just to be able to take it like that," the Doctor stated. "You would have to get to know her a bit better before you got the chance to go anywhere near her heart."

They all ignored him, the Mayor looked at the man with suspicion. "And why should you get her heart as opposed to anyone else?" she asked.

"I know you didn't kill the Vaux, even if you found it you are merely the man who brought it to me. What have you done that deserves the first choice of meat?"

"I'm just putting my choice out there just so you know what I want when it comes to distributing," he said hurriedly.

She eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds, then turned towards the rest of the cannibals. "Anyone else want to simply put forward what they want?" She asked.

There was silence, no one daring to give the Mayor an excuse to pick on them. "I'll have an end piece, please," the Doctor said breaking the silence. "I like them because they are nice and crispy," he explained.

"I wasn't asking you," the Mayor scowled. "Well if no one else wants to put in their bids now I'll have to let Gravam have the heart," she said slyly.

Immediately all those who were taking as much care as possible to avoid her attention, began doing everything in their power to get her attention and were shouting out their requests at the top of their lungs.

"This is madness," Lisa commented.

"It's genius," the Doctor enthused. "She has them all completely in her thrall; if she tells them to jump, they ask how high. She herself knows that this is completely pointless as an exercise, but their lives are so shallow and meaningless that she is enjoying it, look at her."

"It's horrible," she breathed.

"On the bright side, this delay is giving me a chance to work my Houdini magic," the Doctor said cheerfully.

Lisa's head shot up. "And? Is it working?"

"These cannibals really are very good at knots," the Doctor replied, clearly impressed. Lisa groaned loudly.

The Mayor seemed to grow bored listening to her followers pleas and called a hush. "The feast is upon us!" She declared. "Take them to the kitchen"

The Doctor and Lisa were picked up once more and carried out of the chamber without any resistance.

* * *

><p>The Doctor and Lisa were brought into a chamber very similar to the one they had woken up in. The difference was that this chamber was lit with electric lanterns, had several bloody blades littering the floor and had two benches in the middle constructed out of wooden poles that had been tied together. They were placed on one each. The Doctor looked up into the looming eyes of the chef who leered down at him and made a show of sharpening a large blade in front of his face.<p>

"That's my hat, you're wearing!" the Doctor cried.

"It is a nice hat," the chef smirked.

"Yes it is a nice hat," the Doctor agreed. "So could I have it back now that you have found it?"

"You won't be needing it anymore," the cannibal laughed.

"Very well," the Doctor shrugged. "Short back and sides, not too much off the top."

The chef moved away and began to terrorise Lisa. She didn't allow herself to fall for any of his taunts and simply replied with: "Just get on with it." He shrugged and went over to another bench to examine the Vaux which had also been brought in. He took this more seriously as it was already dead so wouldn't be scared of him.

"I quite like your Mayor," the Doctor said conversationally. "She seems very fair and just."

The chef roared with laughter. "You didn't honestly think she was listening to those requests so she could distribute meat fairly?" he scoffed.

"No, I realised that it was just a way of amusing herself," the Doctor replied. "I'm just liking how she fairly makes a mockery out of all of you."

"How's Houdini going?" Lisa whispered.

"Shouldn't be too long," the Doctor replied. "I'm actually getting somewhere now."

"She has already decided for her favourites," the chef explained. She pointed to Lisa. "She will have your skin, for your beauty." He turned to the Doctor. "And your tongue, not sure why."

They were vaguely aware of a few more men entering the room. "Ah champions," the chef addressed them. "You have come to tell me what you will be getting?"

"I am having the Vaux's lungs," one of them said. "Gravam is having her heart and Jontee her liver."

"They are not here to tell me in person?"

"The Mayor has chosen to play I spy with them," another explained.

"Should have guessed," the chef nodded. "What are you having Lorr?"

"I shall be having her stomach," he said silkily, stepping up to her and showing a clearly visible wound on his hand. "To get back the skin that you took from me," he explained.

"It will make you choke," she replied defiantly.

"I'm feeling slightly left out," the Doctor complained. "Doesn't anyone want anything from me."

"The Mayor is having your tongue," the chef reminded him.

"Yes she has taste, which is more than I can say for the rest of you," he challenged.

"I am having your brain," one of them said."

"See," he looked at Lisa as if it were some competition. "He's having my brain. Is anyone having your brain? No."

"And I am having your heart," another said.

The last one's eyes widened in shock. "No you aren't," he snarled. "I'm having his heart."

"Since when?"

"I am her toughest warrior."

"Says you! She still promised it to me."

"When did she do that? She allowed me to have it."

The Doctor giggled at the Mayor's cruel sense of humour as they argued. He was not a cruel man himself though so decided to put them out of their misery. "Why don't you both have my heart?" he asked.

They both looked at him in shock. "We couldn't possibly share an organ," one said.

"That wouldn't be enough," the other agreed. "We would have to dig into someone else's share."

"No I mean you can have a heart each," the Doctor clarified. They all looked at him in confusion. "I have two hearts.

The chef eyed him suspiciously but came to the conclusion the man on the table was telling the truth, or at least he thought he was telling the truth. He leant down and place his ear against the Doctor's chest. THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD. THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD. He lifted his head slightly bewildered and put his ear to the other side of the Doctor's chest. THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD.

"He tells the truth," he said in disbelief. "He has two hearts."

"So he does come from the stars," another said in equal disbelief.

Lisa decided to pressed home the advantage that they had suddenly obtained. "Yes we come from the stars," she said, "as we said before we are experts on this sort of thing. We could help you, if you let us go."

The cannibals looked at one another trying to comprehend this new information. Lisa looked at each one with hope in her eyes. Eventually the one she had bitten spoke.

"If you come from the stars, that must mean you have a star ship nearby," Lorr said silkily.

"As it happens, we were about to re-enter it when you attacked us," the Doctor nodded. "To analyse the planet and see if there was anything we could do," he added.

The cannibals looked at one another and smiled. It was not a smile that either Lisa or the Doctor liked particularly, it was the sort of smile that they received when they were cornered by the villain.

"We must inform the Mayor," one said. "We need not starve again. We can take your ship and travel the stars in search of a new food supply."

"No that is the wrong thing to do, just let us help you, then the food supply here will return," the Doctor said frantically.

"There is no way to help us," one of the men said. "Everyone knows that the planet is dead. Even Goldbridge couldn't do anything."

_Where have I heard of Goldbridge before_? the Doctor wondered. He was annoyed he couldn't remember, it wasn't like him to forget little details. Although he had completely forgotten the number of regenerations that he had had.

"Say what you want," he said. "You cannot access the TARDIS without the key."

The chef dangled something shiny in front of his face. It took him a moment to realise that it was the TARDIS key. He glanced at Lisa in horror who simply mouthed the word _Houdini_, yes if only he could get one of those old tricks to work, they would have been out of this mess a long time ago.

"Take the key to the Mayor," the chef tossed it over to one of his companions. "I shall finish off here."

The men nodded and disappeared.

"Where's the evil cackle?" the Doctor called after them. there was no response. "No one plays the villain properly anymore," the Doctor complained.

The chef turned his back on them and continued to prepare his knives for the upcoming carving. He did not see the Doctor wriggle about slightly, or the sudden 'aha' look in his eyes that confirmed he had finally loosened the rope. But he did hear the clatter of the bench collapsing.

"Damn!," the Doctor cursed from on the floor. "I undid the wrong rope."

The chef loomed over him, but seemed more amused than concerned about what the Doctor had just done; that was his downfall. The Doctor surprised him as he sprang to his feet and head butted him in the chest. He flew backwards and landed painfully on his back. The Doctor used this brief moment of reprieve to hop once more, jumping through the loop his arms made and bringing his tied hands to his front.

"Ah that's why I couldn't do it!" the Doctor exclaimed, noting the unusual way in which the knot had been tied. He barely registered the chef rise to his feet and roar with fury.

The chef brandished a long, bloody knife and advanced slowly, completely confident in his ability to deal with this prisoner. The Doctor pushed his teeth into the knot and almost instantly untied it. He whipped his arms apart, sending the rope unravelling and hitting the chef in the side of the face. The chef growled in fury once more but was too slow to defend from the next attacks. Using the rope like a whip, the Doctor struck the chef around the face, hard enough to draw blood this time, and then brought it down on the chef's wrist, making him drop the knife. He followed through with several more crippling blows, then finished him off by wrapping the rope around the his neck and pulling him towards him so that his temple met with the Doctor's fist. Before he could collapse to the ground the Doctor removed his hat.

"My hat," he said triumphantly and put it back on dramatically. He turned to walk over to Lisa but ended up falling flat on his face, having forgotten that his ankles were still tied together.

"Quickly they could be back any minute," Lisa said frantically.

"I doubt that," the Doctor replied as he carefully loosened the rope binding his ankles. "They will be busy rejoicing over the discovery of the TARDIS key. None of them will bother to realise that if they want to use the TARDIS they will need us alive and come rushing to save us, complete primitives. To think that's what Time Lords were like once, and would have become again had they had a chance to die out naturally. Humans were like this too, and will revert to this state once they come to die out naturally. Of course some species never get a chance to revert to this stage again, they become extinct instantaneously. And never seem to get out of this stage, remaining savage and primitive until they die out, some try to lump humans into that category but I think that is a bit unfair. I mean you have your bad moments but all species and..."

* * *

><p>Unbeknownst to the Doctor one member of the tribe was in fact cleverer than he gave them credit. The Mayor sat in the centre of the main chamber playing eye spy with Gravam and Jontee when the champions swaggered up to her and dropped the key onto her lap.<p>

"What is this?" she asked, irritated.

"That is the key to tonight's dinner's star ship," Lorr said.

"They have a star ship?" she asked, suddenly very interested.

"Yes they came from the stars," another said gleefully. "The male has two hearts to prove it."

"It is our salvation," Lorr agreed. "With this we can travel to a distant planet and feed until it is empty. We need not go hungry again."

"What is happening to our guests?" The Mayor asked.

"Karver is about to kill them and butcher the remains," one replied.

"You idiots!" she screamed. "Go and stop him before it is too late and bring them up here!"

Lorr stared at her in confusion as the champion that had been shouted at made his way back towards the kitchen cave. "What have we done to upset you so?" he asked.

"This key only allows us entry into the star ship," she snarled. "How do we control it once we are inside?"

"I'm sure we would have found a way."

"No, we need them. They can pilot it without mishap," she said with conviction.

"What about our dinner?" one of the champions asked.

"We have the Vaux," she said dismissively. "And with their star ship they can take us to a place where food will not be a problem." Then she noticed someone amongst the crowd who she shouldn't have. "And why aren't you guarding the perimeter!" she screeched. "We may be celebrating a feast but there is no reason to completely drop our guard. We could be attacked at any moment."

Almost on cue the lights began flickering and there were almighty bangs and crashes that accompanied explosions of light and smoke.

* * *

><p>The Doctor finished untying Lisa and lead the way towards the exit to the cave. The route was very straight forward and easy to remember; because there was only one route that could be taken. The Doctor marched on ahead as if he knew the route and Lisa didn't until they came to the one fork in the road.<p>

"That one leads to the main chamber," the Doctor pointed to the right hand fork. "So we should probably take the other one."

"That could lead us anywhere," Lisa commented.

"It may be the best plan we have at the moment," the Doctor shrugged. "What would you rather face? Cannibals or potential death alone in maze of tunnels."

"You make it sound so appealing," Lisa said sarcastically.

"There are positives to going either way," the Doctor said. "But the clincher for me is the angry looking men running towards us from the left."

Lisa squinted down the corridor and could just make out some blurred objects becoming slightly clearer by the second. "They've cornered us," she said simply.

"Our best bet is to head towards the main cavern," the Doctor said, running down the right hand fork. "We might be able to lose them by hiding in one of the holes in the cave wall."

Lisa sprinted to keep up with him. They only got a few metres before the Doctor realised that there was someone running down this corridor too; he skidded to a halt. Lisa did not notice straight away so continued sprinting for a few seconds before trying to stop and turn back to the Doctor. The man had already caught her before she could do this.

"You are still alive!" the man exclaimed in delight. "The Mayor will be pleased. It is a shame we aren't eating you though, I would have gained so much knowledge from his brain." Lisa wriggled in his grip but could not get free.

"Sorry, am I mishearing or did you just say that you don't want to eat us anymore?" the Doctor queried, stepping up to give Lisa support.

"Oh, we want to eat you," the man assured him. "But the Mayor has ordered that you come to her alive, something about your key."

The Doctor and Lisa exchanged glances. "So someone did realise they would need us alive," Lisa said in disbelief.

"I was wrong, I will admit my mistakes," the Doctor held his hands up. "Now take us to your leader. That's five times now!"

The man seemed about to oblige when he noticed the group of men running down the corridor. "Who are they?" he asked.

"Chased us down the other corridor," the Doctor answered, "obviously not keen to allow their dinner to escape. May as well tell them that we aren't on the menu anymore."

"Except that they are not from our tribe," the man said going pale. "They are enemies that have slipped past the guards."

"More cannibals!" Lisa said in horror.

"Run, I will hold them off," the man released her. "You must get to the Mayor."

Lisa did not need telling twice. The Doctor managed to catch her eventually. "The Mayor is clearly very influential," he said to Lisa. "That man died to make sure that her orders were followed out yet he does not even know what is so important about us."

After a moment's silence Lisa said: "Aren't you going to bore me with a similar adventure involving pointless sacrifices?"

"Well now that you mention it there was a time when this piece of skin, claiming to be a human converted herself into psychic energy and went about stealing bodies until..."

Well, she had been asking for that really.

* * *

><p>Upon entering the main cavern they were met with a sight that neither of them had been expecting. Several cannibals were strewn across the floor, almost certainly dead. Blood poured from the chest of the cannibal who had wanted Lisa's stomach. Several men loomed over the dead bodies, searching through their pocket. Others were tearing through belongings that were now scattered across the floor. In the centre a crowd was gathered around a handsome looking man who was carefully examining each object that was brought to him.<p>

"Oh great," Lisa said. "More cannibals."

"Worse," a dying cannibal nearby said. "They are footpads."

"Footpads?" the Doctor had come across this term before, but only in Georgian era of Earth. They were like highwaymen except that they did not have horses so were often more brutal with victims as they lacked the ability to escape quickly. "They go around stealing things from unsuspecting travellers? How is that worse than what you do?"

"They take all material wealth from a victim," the cannibal croaked. "And leave unable to fend for themselves. They kill their victims as much as we do, only they pretend they don't, they never have the guts to finish them off."

"What are they doing here then?"

"Lack of victims on the surface," the cannibal replied softly. "They are forced to attack other tribes in order to obtain the material wealth they seek." He closed his eyes and quietly died.

A commotion on the other side of the room caught their attention. A group were wrestling a struggling female towards the centre. "Look who we have found," one of them declared. It was the Mayor.

The leader of the footpads looked at her in surprise. "Mayor Broxa?" he said in surprise.

"Hello Kayvon," she smiled seductively.

"I thought your tribe had died out!" Kayvon exclaimed.

"We moved to better hunting grounds," she shrugged, testing the rope that bound her wrists. "How fortunate for us to meet up once more."

"Not for you," one of the footpads snarled. "You're going to die feeling the pain of all your victims."

"That's enough Eemon," Kayvon ordered. Eemon looked at him in surprise but bowed his head in subservience.

"She had had this on her," he mumbled holding up a key on a chain.

Kayvon took hold of it and stared at it intently. "It's a key," he stated.

"Not just any key," Broxa said. "Ah good Karver didn't kill you." The Doctor and Lisa were brought forward by another group of footpads.

"You were to be her next victims," Eemon realised.

"Originally yes," Broxa agreed, "but once I discovered who they were I called them up here straight away. They are hmmf."

"No more words," Eemon snarled as he tightened the cloth around her mouth. "I'm not hearing another sound out of you!"

"Really Eemon?" Kayvon raised his eyebrows.

"I was quite interested in what she was about to say actually," the Doctor agreed.

"She's a cannibal Kayvon, the leader too," Eemon shouted. "So forgive me for not having much sympathy for her." He skulked off dragging a struggling Mayor with him.

"It seems we saved you just in time," Kayvon muttered, staring sympathetically after Eemon and Mayor Broxa.

"Actually I think we would have been alright regardless," the Doctor responded. "Do not be too harsh on her she is a lot cleverer than any of the other cannibals around here."

"I know," Kayvon nodded.

"Good if you could give us back our key, and show us the way to the surface, we'll be on our way," Lisa said, hopeful.

"So it's your key is it? Why would you have a key? No one has keys anymore."

"You could say we are quite old fashioned," the Doctor replied.

Kayvon decided not to press any further. "Might be worth a pretty penny," he commented.

"I doubt it," the Doctor said hurriedly. "It's very old."

"It gets stuck quite a lot too," Lisa supplied.

"Even better," Kayvon said. "The brokers like objects with a bit of providence. I think I'll keep it, I will show you to the surface though, can't guarantee you won't be picked up by another footpad of cannibal tribe though."

"We can't go anywhere unless we have the key," the Doctor said firmly.

"You had better come with us then," Kayvon decided. He gave a general shout and upon confirming that there was no more to loot ordered their return to their base.

The Doctor and Lisa had no choice but to be swept up along with them, without the TARDIS key they were still trapped here. They may have escaped from the cannibals but now they had to somehow outwit the footpads.


	12. Nemesis 3

**Author's note: a big thank you to Son of Whitebeard and Brownbug for reviewing the previous chapter. **

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

The Doctor and Lisa were once more sat before a fearsome leader in a large cavern surrounded by other members of the tribe. The difference was that Kayvon was not interested in eating them like Broxa had been and they were not tied up. Kayvon was carefully examining each object that had been obtained from their persons, currently he was assessing the value of a yo-yo that had been in the Doctor's pocket.

"It was used in the grand championships of 1965," the Doctor said proudly.

"Yeah, it didn't win though," Lisa pointed out.

"I wasn't actually there to win, was I," the Doctor sniffed. "If I had been trying I would have done."

"Junk," Kayvon said before the Doctor could launch into yet another long speech. He tossed it back to him. "Completely worthless. This on the other hand is more promising." He stared intently at a bracelet that had been on Lisa's wrist.

"Which one is it?" Lisa asked, still being half blind from lack of glasses.

"The thin metal circle with no jewels or any fancy patterns," the Doctor replied.

"Aww, I liked that one," she moaned.

"What mineral is it?" Kayvon asked.

"Silver," Lisa said reluctantly.

"You mean it is pointless and expensive?" the Doctor queried. "You've really outdone yourself this time."

"At least I have stuff that they want," she countered. "What have they taken from you and not given back in disgust."

"The TARDIS key," he responded. "Though they technically took that from the Mayor of the cannibals."

He looked over to see Broxa still tied up and gagged in the corner. At least she wasn't being abused anymore. Kayvon decided that the bracelet was worth selling and threw it into a sack by his side. All around him other men and woman were also sorting through the loot they had obtained, throwing stuff that was deemed of worth into sacks and all the unsellable junk onto a pile near the Doctor. He retrieved his yo-yo, a couple of board markers and some of Lisa's rings which hadn't been deemed of value. He also found a pair of old spectacles; Lisa tired them on but found they were completely the wrong prescription so they were discarded once more.

"How blind are you without your glasses," Kayvon asked conversationally.

"From where I am standing you look exactly like any other person," she explained. "I can tell that someone is sitting on that chair but for all I know you could be a very ugly woman with horrid warts, I've only got the Doctor's word that you are a young handsome man."

"He's a doctor?" Kayvon asked in interest.

"Of sorts," she agreed. "He is never very specific in which area he specialises. If he does have a specific area of expertise, as far as I can tell he is an expert on everything."

"Surprised he isn't at Goldbridge," Kayvon commented. "You must be from a very rich tribe to have a personal doctor that follows you round."

"Oh it's not all fun and games," she assured him. "I don't suppose you know what it's like having a constant companion that you have to keep a close eye on."

"Have you met Eemon?" he indicated the footpad that was once again moving over to torment Broxa. "Leave her alone!" Kayvon shouted. Eemon turned round pretending that he had never intended to do anything. "Nice enough lad, but goes too far with certain things."

He picked up a ring that was attached to a chain. "Now this looks promising," he smiled, showing yellow and brown teeth. "Looks like two bands of silver intertwined and is that an emerald."

It took Lisa a second to realise which ring he was talking about. "No not that one!" she screamed and lunged for it. Kayvon stood up and easily brushed her aside. Undeterred she jumped up and began flailing her arms in an attempt to claw back her precious ring. Kayvon managed to stand his ground until several footpads came over and wrestled her to the ground. "Not that one," she pleaded, "take the others for all I care, just let me keep that one."

"What is so special about this ring?" Kayvon wondered.

Lisa broke free of her captors and made another lunge at him. Unfortunately she was swiftly caught once more and knocked to the ground. The footpad responsible swiftly kicked her in the stomach. She gave a yelp and braced herself when she noticed him readying another kick.

"Eemon no!" Kayvon shouted. Eemon stopped just in time and stared at his leader in confusion. "You always go too far!" Kayvon said angrily.

"She was attacking you!" Eemon exclaimed, not understanding Kayvon's anger.

The Doctor came over and helped her to her feet. "I am beginning to understand why the cannibals fear you so much," the Doctor said coldly, Kayvon found himself unable to meet his gaze.

"The cannibals are murderers!" Eemon exclaimed.

"At least they are honest about what they are," the Doctor observed. "You cause as much death and misery as they do, and pretend you do not know."

"Please," Lisa croaked. "It's all I have left of him."

"I think it would be better if you allowed yourself to forget," the Doctor said comfortingly. "We should get out of their hair." He slowly led her towards the back of the cave.

Kayvon stared after them guiltily, were they really no better than the cannibals when it came down to it? Eemon snatched the ring from him. He gave a whoop of joy. "We've hit the jackpot! Look at that emerald!"

"Could be fake," Kayvon said uncertainly.

"We can't possibly pass up an opportunity like this," Eemon said as if he were mad. "This could be enough!" he tossed the ring into the sack. "We will be able to go Goldbridge soon," he smiled at Kayvon and Kayvon found that he couldn't not smile at this prospect. It was heartening to realise that they were so near to their goal.

* * *

><p>The Doctor sat down beside Broxa with Lisa on his other side. He leaned over and removed her gag so he could speak with her. "I assume you realised that we are not of this world," the Doctor said, "and that the key is useless without me to pilot the ship."<p>

"We are not stupid," Broxa responded. "Well some of us are. I am curious, why don't you just tell them you are from another world."

"And have them insist on me taking them on a journey through space?"

"Isn't that what you planned with us?" Broxa asked in confusion.

"Life and death situation," the Doctor shrugged. "I would prefer to get away on our own and leave nature to take its course."

"I don't follow."

"Your planet is dying," the Doctor explained, "there is nothing I can do to prevent your extinction. And taking you elsewhere will not help in any way. You have been living a desperate life so long it would almost certainly be more damaging for the environment which I move you to. Your champions even declared their intentions of sucking planets dry of their food stock. Perhaps this was how the great vampires came into being." He halted in his nonstop chatter with a nasty aftershock. He wriggled about spat out the golden energy that formed at his mouth. Then he began to scream in pain whilst clutching his crotch.

"What is it?" Lisa asked in concern. Broxa also stared at him in concern, unsure what was happening to him.

The Doctor ignored them and gently massaged the area. "Oh cosmological space dust!" he moaned in pain. "I thought the arms were bad."

"What's happened Doctor!" Lisa said firmly.

"They've enlarged," the Doctor said through gritted teeth.

"What have?"

The Doctor pointed at his crotch. "My arrgh!" he groaned in pain once more.

Suddenly Lisa realised what he was referring to. Being a woman she did not have the relevant organs that were causing him grief and did not fully comprehend how much grief they could give their owner, but she had heard it was incredibly painful so was sympathetic. "Recent regeneration hasn't finished," she explained to a bemused Broxa.

"What's up with him?" a footpad pointed an accusing finger. "He hasn't got some sort of disease has he?"

"Maybe he has plague!"

"He has plague?"

In under a minute the footpads were suddenly in hysterics and the Doctor was being dragged about like ragdoll while they suggested ways to remove the non-existent plague from their community. Lisa tried to help him but that just lead to accusations that she had plague too. Eventually their saviour came in the unlikeliest of places.

"They're from another planet!" Broxa shouted. "His body is undergoing some sort of change, I don't think it is anything that we can catch."

The footpads seemed to calm down. They gently lowered the Doctor to the ground but kept their distance afterwards.

"You're from another planet?" Eemon questioned.

"They are," Broxa answered defiantly. "They have two hearts."

"I'm not listening to you!" he exclaimed. "You're a cannibal!"

"Yes and if they weren't aliens they would have been dead before you turned up," Broxa countered.

Eemon eyed her suspiciously before leaning down and putting his head against Lisa's chest. "No I only hear one," he said.

The Doctor coughed. "She is not the same species as me, I'm the one with two hearts."

"So what does that mean? You will happily murder us but you turn your nose up at the prospect of alien meat!" Eemon exclaimed.

"Actually the prospect of eating them was very appealing," Broxa responded. "His brain would have given me so much knowledge," she added dreamily.

"Why wouldn't you kill them?" he snarled. "Tell me!"

"Knowledge is power," she said simply, smiling at him. "You smell very good."

In fit of rage Eemon threw her to the ground and brought his leg back to kick her. Before he could do so something collided with the side of his head which knocked him to the floor as well. The Doctor loomed over him.

"Oh sorry," he said holding out his hand to help him up, "just stretching my arms a bit, accidently caught you there." as he helped him up he added. "Though I may not pretend it's an accident next time."

"Right I'm heading down to the broker's den," Kayvon stepped forwards and put a stop to any more potential arguments. "Doctor would you like to come with me?"

"Wouldn't that be jolly," the Doctor said cheerfully. "Let's all go down and watch our stuff get sold onto a pawn broker, fun for all the family. Is it just for me or does Lisa get an opportunity to experience this delight?"

"Oh yes, she had better come too," Kayvon agreed, then he turned to Lisa. "Unless you would rather stay here."

"I'm not staying here," she said pointedly. "Not if he's going with you."

"Hold on!" Eemon butted in. "You are going to go off into the caves with two outsiders, _on your own_?"

"Don't worry, Eemon. I'll look after them if you want," Broxa said from the ground somewhere.

* * *

><p>Several miles away stood the city of Goldbridge. A mighty citadel that had somehow survived the death of the planet. Inside the population was thriving, there were no footpads or cannibals, just normal people going about their everyday lives. Which involved the doctors and scientists working frantically, and all normal people remaining frozen in suspended animation to await the day when the scientists had completed their work.<p>

Deep in the bowels of the city each man, woman and child stood in a separate chamber staring unblinkingly into space. Most people would have found this creepy, but not Dross Mavver. The head scientist found solace in this place; comfort upon seeing those that he was protecting still safe. He marched down towards the very end where his most important (the richest) customer resided. He was only wearing a t-shirt, which seemed madness in this extreme cold, but that was fine; no one at Goldbridge could feel any extreme temperature anymore. Even with his immunity to the cold his breathe was clearly visible in front of him. He finally came to a stop.

"We will soon be ready prime minister," he said to figure frozen within the chamber. "The success with the rats has proven that. In your absence I have to assume that you will accept this course of action, there is not much else we can do. The planet is beyond redemption, there is no appropriate planet near enough to evacuate to, and no one who can aid us. This is the only solution!" he pleaded as if to convince the figure frozen in ice.

"I knew I would find you here." Dross whipped his head round to see who had invaded in his private walk.

"What can I do for you general?" he asked upon composing himself.

"I thought I would receive the status report from you personally," the general responded. "I hear that you are ready to enact a complete conversion."

"That is correct," Dross nodded. "It will only be a test run of course."

"Of course," the general agreed.

"And I will only do on someone who has not had any implants already," the scientist continued.

"So you are going to break one of them out of suspended animation?" the general asked regarding the many bodies frozen before him. "Who?"

"None of them."

The general's head whipped round so fast that it caused him pain. "Why not?" he asked incredulously. "They put themselves here in wait for a solution and you have one."

"Not really, I don't know that it will be successful," Dross responded.

"Risks have to be taken," the general sniffed. "You are a scientist, I thought that was part of your motto."

"I will not risk their lives," Dross replied. "They paid to be safe until a solution could become available and I do not intend to break that contract."

The general seemed to get angry now. "It's alright for you, tinkering away with your little toys, looking at all the fascinating ways that you can manipulate our bodies!" he shouted, boots clunking on the floor as he stepped towards him. "But the rest of us are just growing older wondering when it will all end," he grew calmer suddenly. "I spoke to Dr. Keller. He estimates no longer than two months."

"Everyone dies eventually," Dross said sympathetically.

"I'm 37, and that is a huge achievement in itself, we used to live into our 80s!" he exclaimed. "And you should be able to put a stop to that."

"Quadaff," Dross said softly, "I want nothing more than to put a stop to that, but I am not betraying their trust."

"Well I think you have to," general Quadaff said.

"You mustn't forget that we are not alone on this planet," Dross said. "There are plenty of people living outside the safety of Goldbridge."

"You want to give this gift to a cannibal!" Quadaff exclaimed. "Have you completely lost it?"

"To be fair, I don't think they will want to eat us afterwards," Dross stated. "But actually they are not the only ones out there. I trust you have heard of the footpad tribes?"

"The ones murdering others for their material wealth?"

Dross nodded. "They are all trying to get the funds to get a place in here," he gestured at the room they were standing in. "I assume they would jump at the chance to have this instead for a diminished price."

"We must alert the brokers then," Quadaff said with a smile. He turned and began striding back towards the entrance, clunking with every step.

"Liking the new legs?" Dross asked, following him.

"They are a brilliant piece of work," he complimented. "Almost like the real thing yet so much better."

They laughed and chatted as they exited the room, the footsteps of the general's cybernetic legs echoing as they went.

* * *

><p>"Now I can understand how come people like Broxa can appear," the Doctor said as they travelled. "Food supplies grow short, starvation kicks in, someone suggests that maybe if one of us dies the others can live. And before you know it you have entire societies killing one another to eat them and survive. But I am not sure I understand how the tribes of footpads appear, why aren't you so desperate for food like your cannibal friends and what is so important about these material needs?"<p>

Kayvon smiled at this statement. "We have access to a food source that means we do not have to resort to cannibalism," he explained. "There is a fungus that grows in the heart of caves that does not require the light of the sun to survive. We survive by eating this mushroom."

"Nice of you to share it with us," Broxa commented.

"There is not an unlimited supply," Kayvon responded, "we look after ourselves, like you do. You are right in your other supposition, Doctor, it doesn't make much sense for us to be interested in material wealth. But we realise that the mushrooms will not last forever, we know that the situation we are in will not just sort itself out. By gaining material wealth we can buy our way to Goldbridge."

"Why? What happens at Goldbridge?"

"That is where they are working to sort everything out," Eemon answered. "With enough money we can become part of the future they are building, rather than being left behind like you." He directed this last comment at Broxa.

"All roads lead to Goldbridge apparently," the Doctor commented. "How do you know it won't just lead to a dead end."

"I don't follow you," Kayvon said.

"Goldbridge will have suffered from the same disaster as the rest of you," the Doctor explained. "Who's to say that it won't just be a ruin filled with cannibals like Broxa, no offence Mrs. Mayor."

"None taken Doctor."

"The broker is in regular correspondence with Goldbridge," Kayvon replied. "He tells us all the news from Goldbridge, it isn't just a legend, he keeps hold of our accounts and will get us a transport to Goldbridge when we have enough. I have seen the transport and I very much doubt that he would be tricking us into parting with our cash if there was nothing to spend it on."

"Fair enough," the Doctor nodded. "Do you know what will happen to you there or are you going in blind praying that the broker doesn't transform you into Cybermen as soon as you walk past a screen."

"Cybermen?" Lisa queried.

"Old nemesis," the Doctor responded, "I'll tell you about them later, I'm on a roll here. You don't know what happens, do you? You are just rushing in blindly, full of hope... Although hope is a very good emotion. Hope drives many things."

"We will get frozen until a solution arrives," Eemon explained.

"Ok," the Doctor nodded at this explanation. "Fair enough."

* * *

><p>The twisting maze of tunnels finally opened up into a large chamber. On one wall there was an opening in which a man was clearly visible. He dressed in the scruffy clothes that were customary of all those living in the caves i.e. almost modern day Earth but hadn't been washed or changed for a long time. He his dark hair was long and straggly and fell down the sides of his face like rat's tails; he was in bad need of a shave. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he noticed the party entering.<p>

"Kayvon," he said.

"Hello Olljo," Kayvon nodded in greeting. "I have some more things for you to evaluate."

"Well I didn't think you came over for the conversation," Olljo shrugged, eying up the Doctor, Lisa and Broxa. "Who are your friends?"

"They are prisoners," Eemon said. "Refugees from other tribes." This was the pre-arranged lie.

"Why is she tied up?" Olljo pointed at Broxa.

"It isn't really fair is it," Broxa agreed. "If anything I am less dangerous than the Doctor but he has the most freedom."

"Shut up!" Eemon whacked her on the back of the head. "She is a cannibal, they aren't," he explained simply.

"A doctor of what exactly?" Olljo asked the Doctor.

"Oh many things, knees, elbows, hearts, lungs, psychiatry, most forms of medicine really; I don't do eyes or teeth. I am also a Doctor of archaeology, zoology, engineering, physics, chemistry, maths, history, art, history of art, the ancient art of the Aboriginals, combined honours, football, cricket, hide and seek, Herbology, Quidditch, cookery, trans-dimensional space travel, vortex studies, dancing bear taming, accountancy, Latin, film and media; the list goes on but I'm not sure you would be interested," he explained proudly, only coming to a halt after a warning glance from his companions.

"Surprised you aren't at Goldbridge."

"If I had a penny for every time I've heard that," the Doctor muttered.

"I have brought another selection of bounty for you," Kayvon said producing the sack of valuables. "I hope that it will raise our account sufficiently to take us to Goldbridge."

"I'll be the judge of that," the broker said gruffly. He slowly began to empty the contents of the sack to examine each item.

It was a long and boring process for those not really involved. Broxa and Lisa sat down by one of the walls while Eemon loomed over them; Broxa smiled back at him innocently whilst secretly doing something with her wrists behind her back. Kayvon paced up and down, occasionally replying to questions that Olljo sent his way. The Doctor stood right on the counter 'being helpful'.

"It's very clever," he enthused. "All you do is pull down on this tiny lever, the clasp opens and you can attach and detach the necklace chain." He demonstrated this a couple of times by putting it around his neck, then asked Olljo to do it as he found he couldn't do it when it was behind his neck.

Olljo was not particularly impressed by the attempts to impress him. "Just stand over there with your friends!"

"I was only trying to help," the Doctor muttered as he slunk over to where Lisa was sitting.

"Has he come to the ring yet?" she asked as he approached.

"I would be more concerned about the key personally," the Doctor replied.

Olljo picked up another item out of the sack and looked at it closely. It was the ring in question. "Kayvon where did you find this?"

Kayvon stopped his pacing and made his way over to the counter. "Lisa had it," he indicated to where the girl was sitting. "I thought it looked valuable when I first laid eyes on it."

"I have never seen anything like it," Olljo's eyes lit up as he said this. "A beautiful piece of work, two twisted bands of silver if I am not mistaken, possibly white gold. I can't place the stone, though."

"Is it not an emerald?" Kayvon said in shock. He looked over at Lisa to see her crestfallen face, there was almost certainly no way she would get it back now.

"No the structure is too complicated," the broker removed the microscope from his eye. "Certainly a rare mineral. It almost seems alive."

The Doctor's ears pricked up, that can't be right, he thought, I deactivated it. He watched as the broker stroked the stone a couple of times, never once taking his eyes off it. The Doctor jumped up but before he could shout his warning Olljo had already slipped the ring onto his ring finger; he gave off a stifled shriek that didn't go unnoticed by Eemon, Lisa or Broxa. The change was instantaneous. The gem on the ring flashed so briefly that only the Doctor noticed it. Olljo shuddered slightly and then began to stare out into open space, twisting his hair around his fingers and smiling eerily.

"We reckon that it would probably be enough to get us a place in the Goldbridge freezer," Kayvon carried on oblivious to what had just happened. "What do you th... what are you doing?"

Olljo didn't seem to notice him. "He's so wonderful," he said in a strange adoring voice.

"You what?" Kayvon raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Aren't you going to evaluate that ring."

"How can I work," the broker said in desperation, "when he is not here."

"Who?" Eemon asked, as equally baffled as Kayvon was.

"Harry of course," Olljo replied.

Lisa gasped and shared a horrified look with the Doctor; that was exactly what he hoped would not be said. "Why don't you take the ring off," he suggested calmly.

Olljo stared directly at him with hatred in his eyes. "Doctor who?" he demanded. The Doctor said nothing. "Doctor who?" the broker said even louder this time.

The Doctor remained as impassive as ever. "Just the Doctor," he responded. "Now why don't you..."

"Then it is you!" Olljo accused. "You may have changed your face, but I can tell it is you!"

"Nice to see I have a fan," the Doctor said cheerfully.

"I am no fan of yours," Olljo snarled. "But I could hardly forget the man who murdered the man I love!"

"Doctor what is he talking about?" Kayvon asked.

"It's the ring," the Doctor responded. "We need to get it off him."

Olljo was having none of that and punched Kayvon aside as he leaped over the desk. "I have found you at last! And now I am going to avenge him!" he charged at the Doctor and proceeded to strangle him with his bare hands. The Doctor tried to fight him off but found him too strong, the ring seemed to be empowering him in some way. He was aware of screaming around him as the world started to go black and the lack of oxygen slowly drained the last of his dwindling strength. It seemed that Harry was going to have his revenge after all.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: I dedicate this chapter to Brownbug, whose constant questions and suppositions about Lisa's ring inspired me to write the final scene of the chapter. Please review to let me know what you think.<strong>


	13. Nemesis 4: Remembrance

**Author's note: thank you to the continuing words of encouragement from Son of Whitebeard and Brownbug. In case you have not noticed I have made alterations to the full summary at the beginning of the prologue, to bring it in line with the new summary; I hope it is an improvement.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

Lisa stared in horror as the broker leaped forwards and proceeded to strangle the Doctor. He struggled against his attacker but it was useless, Olljo was too strong. The Doctor quickly went limp and was dropped to the ground violently. Olljo stared down at him gleefully with a look of madness in his eyes. Then he started laughing.

"Have you gone insane Olljo!" Eemon exclaimed. He knelt down to check the Doctor's pulse. "He's dead," he said.

"Take the ring off," Lisa said as calmly as she could in the circumstances.

"No!" Olljo screamed. "It's mine now!"

"Just take it off, please," she pleaded.

The broker tilted his head slightly as he scrutinised her. After a moment of uncomfortable silence he tilted his head back and roared with laughter. Kayvon tried to take advantage of this distraction and charged at him. Olljo easily repelled the attack and sent Kayvon sprawling in a heap. Broxa shrank back against the wall, her normal cocky demeanour replaced with a look of fear.

"Stupid bitch," Olljo taunted, "he isn't yours anymore. He was never yours really, you didn't think he would love a filthy slut like you."

"We were engaged," Lisa responded, anger replacing her fear.

"It was me he loved!" the broker roared, "not you!"

"You weren't even there!" Lisa countered.

"He was thinking of me though," Olljo reminisced.

"You're right," Eemon said, shocking everyone. "He did love you." He took a step towards him, hoping to use this turn of events to his advantage. "And I might be able to find him if you took me to Goldbridge."

"Don't listen to him," Lisa butted in.

"Oh," Olljo took a step towards her, "and what makes you think I am going to listen to you, slut."

"Because I was once like you," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. "He was my world, but I realise that he was just using me like he is using you. He never loved me and he certainly never loved you."

The vein at his temple throbbed as his face screwed up into a look of absolute fury. "Liar!" he roared and dived at her, gripping her around the throat with both hands. Lisa flailed and clawed at him as he proceeded to choke her. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Eemon was making no move to stop him.

"You are not stopping him?" Broxa asked in genuine shock.

"She seems to be causing him to act strangely," he shrugged, "we will be able to return to business with her out of the way."

"You heartless man!" she snarled, and vainly struggled against the bonds that tied her hands.

Eemon rolled his eyes and lifted the gag back over her mouth. "Olljo I think that she is your enemy too," he said with a smirk. She glared back in response.

Olljo paused his attack on Lisa to squint suspiciously at the bound and gagged cannibal that Eemon was referring to. Lisa gasped as she was suddenly able to breathe again. "She is an enemy of Harry?" he asked.

"That's right," Eemon nodded. Broxa shook her head pleadingly.

Olljo scrutinised her for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Nope, she has nothing to do with this." Lisa's clarity returned enough for her to make a grab for the hand which was wearing the ring. Olljo easily shook her off and returned to strangling her. Lisa flapped her arms about feebly as she once more began to succumb to the effects of oxygen loss.

It appeared that this was the end. After many years of travelling with the Doctor it was all coming to an end. The very first enemy she had faced with the Doctor, her ex-fiancée, had caused the death of the Doctor and she was about to follow him. They had come a full circle. No one noticed as the Doctor's leg swing upwards until it met its target.

Olljo immediately released his grip on Lisa and fell to the ground backwards clutching his groin. The Doctor sat up grinning triumphantly. "Respiratory bypass system!" he declared. "Never try to strangle a Time Lord! You would have thought they would have learned by now, number of times this has saved my life." He massaged his neck that was sore regardless and coughed as he expelled bio-energy from his mouth. "That's better!"

Olljo snarled and leaped to his feet. The Doctor followed suit, cracking his knuckles in preparation for the upcoming spar. "Let's start by laying down some basic ground rules," he said casually, "no chopping off any limbs, we don't want it to turn into that sort of fight, and no going below the belt either." Olljo turned and grasped something from the counter. A swift movement of his hands revealed it to be a penknife. "Oh that's my Vogan all purpose survival kit," the Doctor noticed. "The Vogans gave that to me after I rescued them from that virus that almost wiped them out, do you remember that Lisa? No that was before I met you wasn't it. Second time I saved them, that was, they had to give me a gift this time."

The golden blade of the knife glinted due to the light from the lanterns as the possessed broker raised it above his head. He gave a roar and charged forwards. The Doctor casually disarmed him and retaliated with several punches before he was immobilised by another aftershock. Olljo took advantage of this and grasped him round the neck once more and squeezed so hard it was as if he was trying to crush his neck this time. Perhaps direct confrontation hadn't the best idea in his current state.

Luckily Kayvon had recovered by now and successfully pulled the crazed broker off him with a fierce rugby tackle. The Doctor quickly recovered and jumped down to help Kayvon to pin him. even with the two of them it was an incredible struggle to hold him down. A struggle that was made worse when Eemon joined in; on Olljo's side.

The Doctor was violently kicked in the chest, flipping him onto his back. Olljo rose to his feet, despite Kayvon's attempts to hold him down, and prepared to stamp on the Doctor's head. The Doctor rolled away before tackling his legs to bring him down once more. They were currently on top but it was clear that it was a losing battle with Eemon involved as well.

The Doctor found that all the aggression was directed towards him, Olljo completely ignored Kayvon unless he had to defend himself from him and Eemon was reluctant to attack his friend and leader. This wouldn't normally faze the Doctor, it meant that his friend was relatively safe from serious danger, but in his current state, with aftershocks a constant worry, he was not certain that he would be able to hold his own effectively enough. He had to persevere though, Olljo was too deranged for him to listen to him at this moment and Eemon certainly wouldn't be persuaded by him, his only chance was to get that ring off his hand.

A respite came unexpectedly when Eemon was suddenly grappled from behind by Lisa. She dangled down his back, holding him around the neck and frantically clawing at him. He thrashed about and soon managed to throw her off. Dignity tarnished, he turned and advanced on her menacingly. The Doctor tried to go and help her but found himself once more in Olljo's grip. Kayvon tackled them both to the ground and there was a frantic struggle as he and the Doctor tried to pull the ring off his finger.

Eemon beat Lisa badly. Several punches and kicks to the stomach left her sprawling on the floor, tears pouring her eyes. He then knelt down on her chest and proceeded to choke her like Olljo had tried to earlier. Lisa looked into his eyes as she felt the air being crushed out of her once more. She saw no madness, he was not under the influence of the ring, only blind determination. She was certain that she was going to die this time.

Eemon was struck on the back of the head by a large stone, it was enough to stun him momentarily. Broxa, having freed herself from her bonds, rolled him off of Lisa and quickly tied his hands behind his back before he could recover. He thrashed about a bit but became motionless when Broxa whispered in his ear, no doubt declaring how she was going to eat him. Thoughts of dignity were forgotten and he began whimpering like a small child as Broxa began to taunt him further.

"Never mind him," Lisa spluttered. "Help the Doctor!"

The Doctor had had a small victory. Olljo was currently pinned to the ground and the Doctor had control of the hand which the ring was on. He managed to force the fingers apart and was about to grip the ring when a sharp pain shot through his chest. Yet another aftershock prevented his success. He was easily thrown off and Olljo managed to get himself onto his knee.

Broxa took him by surprise. His hand was grasped and the ring finger jammed into her mouth before he knew what was happening. There was a horrific crunch, followed by a bloodcurdling scream of pain from the broker. He pulled away from her and clutched at his hand, blood spouting out of the gap where his finger should have been. Kayvon, Lisa and Eemon stared at Broxa in horror as she casually spat out Olljo's finger and gently slipped the ring off.

"You are disqualified Mrs. Mayor," the Doctor said casually upon recovering and realising what had happened. "Biting off limbs is exactly the same as chopping them off."

"Technically I wasn't part of the fight originally so are not privy to your rules," she responded with equal calm.

The Doctor shrugged. "Either way, you interrupted our duel illegally you cannot claim victory."

She pointed to Eemon. "Can I claim victory over him?" she asked.

The Doctor peered over to where Eemon was tied up on the floor. "Yeah, I'll give you that one," he nodded.

* * *

><p>Dross stood alone in a brightly lit room staring intently at a screen. The screen showed the interior of a tunnel, the camera slowly advanced through it. The door noisily slid open and Quadaff strode into the room, clanking with every step.<p>

"I thought you were getting ready to perform the operation," he said accusingly. "Instead I find you playing with your toys."

Dross nodded enthusiastically. "Of course," he said. "But for a good reason," he added frantically.

"Good reason my foot," the general scorned.

"Well technically..."

"They may not be the feet I was born with," he shouted, "but they are my feet now. What good reason do you have for enjoying watching what one of your rats can see as it goes exploring the mountains?"

"I sent the message to the nearest broker explaining that there is a cheaper offer for someone to become the first full conversion," Dross explained. "I have had no response, which is very unusual as Olljo is always very quick to respond to any of my messages. Probably a communication error, so I have sent this particular rat to his den to see if he can extract the information that we require. He is navigating the caves very well so far." He turned to the screen. "No problems with the rugged terrain, and all other tools seem to be working."

"As I said," Quadaff said with resentment. "You are using this as an opportunity to test out one of your toys. Krail could have done this just as easily."

"It seems logical to do so," Dross replied. "The basic tests in the lab are nothing compared to the planet surface, I always test them on this terrain and I think I have finally got it right. Here watch this." There was a glint in his eye as he stepped up to the console and pressed a few buttons. "Tango Scabbers, jump to the opposite wall if you please."

The constant forward motion froze for a second then it shot forwards like a rocket. Whatever the camera was mounted on rose into the air as this happened and then uniformly sank and came to a halt as it landed; it began to proceed once more at its original velocity. Dross clapped his hands in delight.

"Did you see that!" he exclaimed. "They don't just trundle along the ground, they can jump as well. Not confined to one level. None of the others could do that successfully. I don't imagine it would take much work to get one to fly."

General Quadaff was less impressed. "Just get that volunteer here as soon as possible," he snarled and clanked over to the exit. "I am not getting any younger you know, time is not on my side."

Dross did feel a pang of guilt over his friends plight as the door slid shut and the clanking of his iron boots slowly disappeared. Perhaps he was enjoying himself a bit too much. This was forgotten when Tango Scabbers sent back an atmospheric reading that it had just taken of the area, he smiled at the sophistication of the creature he had created. He needed to make more, he decided, and come up with a catchy name to define them all. It was proof that what they were doing was a good thing.

* * *

><p>The group in the broker's cave sat in pairs. Lisa sat with the broker himself, gently comforting him and reassuring him that, having been a victim of the rings power before, everything would be alright. Whilst the psychological wound would heal with time, his finger was not going to grow back in a hurry; he cried in pain whilst resisting the urge to prod at the bandage that covered the open wound. Broxa was sitting on Eemon, who was still tied up and now gagged with the cloth that had gagged her. She had grown bored of taunting him about how she was going to kill him and eat him, instead she listened in on the Doctor's conversation with Kayvon.<p>

The Doctor held the ring in his hand and was reminiscing about the atrocities Harry had done with it. Kayvon had volunteered to destroy it once and for all, but the Doctor pointed out that he would have already done so himself if it was possible.

"I had thought I had deactivated it," he explained. "And it has caused us no trouble at all since then. Until now, of course."

"What is it?" Kayvon asked. Before the Doctor could reply with an unhelpful 'it's a ring' he added. "I mean what is it made of? what sort of technology is it?"

"Simple psychic crystal," the Doctor replied. "Designed to plant simple ideas into a person's brain until that is the only thought that drives them. in this case the wearer is given a simple desire to love and be with Harry, and following on from that do his bidding, eventually madly killing in his name. I may not have deactivated it but I did damage it in some way, Olljo became deranged much quicker than Lisa or anyone else did. Although Olljo will recover quicker, he wasn't wearing it for very long. I think that Lisa never fully recovered from it."

"Did she wear it for a very long time then?" Kayvon looked over at her with sympathy. Still lacking any glasses Lisa did not notice this. "The idea circling for a long time will be harder to remove than a relatively new one."

"That's part of it I suppose," the Doctor nodded. "But I think the most important factor was the fact that she was genuinely in love with him before he even gave her the ring." Kayvon looked at him in shock. "That was the sort of man he was. That's what marked him out from the other two. He took the most precious of emotions and used it as a weapon for his own ends. He betrayed her love so that his greed and lust could flourish with his megalomania."

"Other two?"

"Tom, Dick and Harry," the Doctor explained. "A trio of simple humans striving for domination on the intergalactic scale using scavenged alien technology. Tom and Dick were relatively harmless, I dealt with them without too much difficulty. But Harry rivalled the Master in his cold-blooded determination to become an omnipotent ruler of all; and coincidently shares one of the names he used in one of his most well-known schemes. What you witnessed today is proof of his ability to orchestrate destruction, even from beyond the grave.

"Why does she wear it around her neck?" Broxa piped in. "If he was as awful as you say why does she honour him in that way?"

"Why do you let her do it?" Kayvon added. "I certainly would never allow my girlfriend to keep anything that was from her ex."

"It's been so long since someone has made that assumption," the Doctor blushed, "that's the problem with younger bodies. Makes me feel as young as I look, I am actually over three thousand years old you realise."

"Oh, so you two aren't..." Kayvon said in surprise.

"No!" the Doctor scoffed. "It's more of a paternal relationship. She's like the daughter I never had. Although I have claimed that about many of my companions over the centuries, and that doesn't take into account the actual daughters I have had. They're all dead now though." This last sentence was said with a hint of sadness. Broxa cleared her throat, indicating that she would like her question to be answered as well.

"That is because the ring was given to her as an engagement ring," the Doctor explained solemnly, "they were going to get married. I think she wants to remember the happy times and the family she almost had." The trio looked sympathetically over at Lisa who was blissfully unaware.

The Doctor started singing. It was different to the ones he had sung before, it was slow and sad. It was a song about failed love that perfectly set the mood. No one dared to interrupt him, it seemed very appropriate at this moment, it was the thing they needed. In this tender moment no one noticed as something small and metallic entered the cave.

* * *

><p>Kayvon expertly vaulted the counter and found himself in the broker's little office. He casually discarded the ring on the counter and made his way over to the computer that was attached to the wall. It didn't take much searching to discover his tribe's account, apparently they would still fall short of the amount required to get them to Goldbridge to be frozen. He sighed and turned back to the counter. He jumped out of his skin upon what he saw.<p>

Sitting on top of the table was a small, metal creature, dull grey in colour with black eyes. It was very rat like in appearance, the head was thin and ratty and seemed to tilt up slightly in order to look at Kayvon directly. Legs were missing in favour of small wheels and the body slowly thinned out towards the rear to create a tail. This metallic creature stared at Kayvon for a few seconds before turning and leaping off the counter by expelling compressed gas out from under its tail. Kayvon watched it make its escape with interest, failing to notice that Lisa's ring was no longer on the table.

"Did anyone see that?" he called out.

"See what?" the Doctor stood up out of interest.

"A small sort of metallic creature, a bit like a rat," Kayvon explained. "It just jumped off the table."

"Yes you see them occasionally," Olljo commented, recognising what he was talking about immediately. "Cyber-rats from Goldbridge, part of their experiments."

"Cybermat," the Doctor corrected absent-mindedly.

"Why would they be called Cybermats?" Olljo exclaimed. "They are not robotic carpets, they are robotic rodents that they have been creating experimentally. Cyber-rats not mats!"

The Doctor suddenly froze in shock. "Adric," he breathed.

"What?" Lisa was looking at him with concern now.

"Adric," the Doctor repeated. "Used to travel with me. An Alzarian, so his body adapted to changes very quickly, in this way he could heal injuries in a heartbeat. I was trying to think of his name earlier when my body started to heal itself but I couldn't think of it until he mentioned that there were Cybermats."

"They are called Cyber-rats," Olljo corrected.

The Doctor ignored him and began to pace up and down. "I should have realised this earlier, I'm either getting too old for this shit," he paused and giggled. "What a catchphrase! They don't make films like that anymore I can tell you. I wonder why I never used that quote before, I suppose my previous incarnation came closest and none of my others, barring my first, really got far enough for the body to age significantly. I have been using take me to your leader a lot recently. Perhaps I should start taking ones from star trek, 'Resistance is Futile' would be such a good one. Or 'if you strike me down I shall become more powerful than you can ever imagine', that would be good. Although I have already used it once and I would struggle to outdo how well that turned out." He balked at the looks he was being given. "Sorry.

"Or my regeneration is causing me problems with my memory still. When I said I had sensed something similar before when we landed, you were right to mention the death of the dinosaurs. But that wasn't the only place I had felt that way. It was the same feeling I felt when Adric died, and I feel it every time I meet his killers once more. The reason we felt it at the death of the dinosaurs was because Adric was killed saving the Earth from being destroyed by huge spaceship crashing into it, it still crashed but Adric sent it back in time so that it landed at the end of the Cretaceous period killing the dinosaurs and himself; he was still on board.

"This planet is dying and while some of the inhabitants have been acting in the normal way and turned to cannibalism, others have become footpads: stealing material wealth so they can get to a place where this is all being sorted out. Oh Lisa we have to get out of here. The temptation to interfere is huge but I know I mustn't; it would destroy the past. So many things have happened because of what has befallen here, humans would not exist for a start."

"Doctor," Lisa cut him off. "Where are we."

The doctor didn't answer. He turned to Kayvon. "What planet are we on?"

"Is that important?"

"If my guess is wrong then that undoes all the worries that I have just voiced to you," the Doctor said gravely. "What planet are we on?"

Kayvon looked at Olljo, then Eemon and finally Broxa who nodded her head vigorously. "Mondas," he answered.

The Doctor nodded sadly, it was exactly as he had feared. "We have arrived at the birth of the Cybermen," he said

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: yes that's right, this part of the story is my take on the birth of the Cybermen (any similarities to the audio play Spare Parts is completely coincidental, I have never listened to it and I am unsure as to its canonicity anyway) which will hopefully introduce my very own Cybermen.<strong>

**You may have noticed that this is going to be longer than any of my other parts, this is because I have put more effort into this part of the story, I plan for it to become a recurring arc in future stories. Please review to let me know what you think, I really am looking for some feedback on this part especially.**


	14. Nemesis 5: Reunion

**Author's note: slightly earlier update than usual and is likely to be the last update of the year; I'm going home for Christmas thus making updates more difficult for me. Thank you to those who have been reading every week and especially to those who have been reviewing regularly each week (both of them) and I look forward to seeing you all again in the New Year. Merry Christmas.**

Chapter 5

"No don't run! Why are you doing that? You can't be hurt anymore!" Dross shouted at the screen. Apparently the rat's natural instincts were still very dominant despite his best efforts. At least it had taken the ring; a scan had indicated it was no ordinary crystal, it had properties that could prove useful in the future.

On an even more positive note, Tango Scabbers had successfully picked up the required information. And it had even managed to get a good look at the one of the candidates. He would be perfect. He ordered the Cybermat to return with all speed and switched off his surveillance.

With the push of a few buttons he was able to contact the barracks. "Come in Krail," he said to the screen.

The screen crackled with static, every so often flickering into an image of a man; not clearly enough to easily take in any details. Eventually it calmed down and Dross was presented with an image marginally worse than what he had picked up from the Cybermat's journey; which didn't make much sense as the barracks was supposedly closer than Tango Scabbers had been and not down any tunnel.

Krail was tall and thin and his skin was going slightly grey; though that may have been due to the picture quality. He stared into the screen at his end with no expression, he had never really expressed himself very much, and blinked a few times. His head was shaven like his face and his dark eyes suggested that he had suffered great hardships in the past.

"What is it Dr. Mavver?" Krail said monotonously.

"I have a little job for you," Dross said.

"Oh," Krail raised his eyebrows. "A proper job or are the toilets blocked again?"

"I have located an individual that would be the perfect recipient for my first attempt at a complete conversion," Dross explained, ignoring the sarcasm. "I want you to go and fetch him for me."

"You are not being very specific," Krail noted.

"I shall send you the details immediately," Dross pressed a few buttons on the screen as he said this. "I wanted to make sure that you are up for this."

"Of course I am," Krail bristled. The signal was briefly lost and Dross did not hear the rest of his angry response. He waited patiently for the screen to return to normal. When it returned Krail was carefully reading something slightly to the left.

"Is everything in order?" Dross asked.

Krail nodded. "Yes I think we can handle that. Do we expect much resistance?"

"That is doubtful," Dross snorted. "They are desperate individuals who have been saving up for some salvation, they should be happy to receive you when you offer it."

Krail wasn't convinced. "Maybe so, but they may not treat outsiders too kindly," he said. "I shall take Vrax and Mord with me."

"That is your decision," Dross shrugged. "Just try to make sure that Kayvon comes back to me without too much injury." Krail nodded and the screen returned to static once more; this time it stayed that way.

* * *

><p>"They are a race of cyborgs," the Doctor explained. "Stripped of their humanity by an excess of robotic implants. Now no humanity remains, all that is left is the Cyberman. They have no emotions, no pity, no fear, and no pain; because they supposedly made them weaker.<p>

"I have encountered them many times, each time they caused countless death and destruction, with no remorse, in their crusade to make all humans exactly like them."

"When you say humans you mean?" Broxa interrupted.

"Lisa's species," the Doctor pointed. "Coincidently exactly the same biology as you Mondasians which the process was originally designed for; so they didn't have to drastically adjust it when they came to converting humans instead. I am not sure exactly how they came into existence, other than that they originated here and it was down to a planetary disaster that started it off. I did get to see the 'Rise of the Cybermen' firsthand in Pete's World. Parallel universe, and I would have thought you would have learnt not to distract me from a specific point when it is important by now. I appreciate that I am very easily distracted and like to yammer away on unrelated nonsense for hours but you needn't encourage me. Though it is not a new experience, several of my previous incarnations have dabbled in the ancient art of eccentricity. First wasn't always a grumpy old sod, and neither was Previous, you would be grumpy if you had arthritis and slipped discs. AARRGGH!" he dropped to the ground as the bio-energy boiled in his belly once more.

"Amazing how he is able to talk for so long with that tongue," Broxa said in admiration. Kayvon and Olljo couldn't help but shudder as they noticed the look of hunger in her eyes.

The Doctor jumped back to his feet as if nothing had happened. "What was I saying, oh yes Pete's World. The Cybermen there, however, were not created in the same way, they were invented by a spiteful old man who just didn't want to die. If I had a penny for every time I had to stop one of those. Unless I am mistaken that is very different to what is happening here, this is going to be a slow evolution from flesh to iron."

"How bad will we become?" Kayvon asked.

"The Cybermen are certainly in the top three of my greatest nemesises ever. No I said that wrong," he frowned and tried the word again. "Nemesi? Nemesods?" he struggled to find the correct plural for nemesis for a few minutes before finally realising it was: "Nemeses! Hold on I didn't pronounce that correctly either. Cosmic Dust, the Queen's English can be so difficult sometimes!" he declared in frustration.

Lisa smirked in amusement. "The mighty Doctor, last of the Time Lords, defeated by the word _nemeses_," she said, pointedly pronouncing it correctly. The Doctor looked at her in surprise and would have made some comment had Kayvon not dragged him back to the subject of Cybermen.

"They are probably third, but could be easily be higher considering that they have caused the deaths of more of my friends than either of the other two," he explained. "Adric, Jeremy, Commodore Travers, Zara, Ellian, Victor, Catherine, Kathryn, Kate, Johnny, John, why are you laughing? Oh yes I suppose that is quite amusing, ha ha ha. Kamelion V, Terry, Joan, Rose – although she never actually died, she was just trapped in Pete's World – Borion, Graxel, Felixa, and several that I can see clearly in my mind's eye but this bloody regeneration is preventing me from accessing their actual names!

"I wouldn't worry right now," he assured the Mondasians. "I estimate that you will all be long gone before the Cybermen begin their superiority complex. The point is, I want to stop them from rising. The universe would be a much better place if there were no Cybermen in it. But I cannot do that, they affect the timeline too much, they affect my past too much. I couldn't go back and kill little Adolf or Joey Stalin because of the implications on Earth. Even if I knew they would grow up to be the most famous mass murderers in Earth's history, you couldn't go back and kill the child or their mothers. I couldn't do it when the Time Lords sent me to wipe out the Daleks, I wouldn't destroy Sontar, I wouldn't destroy the Nestene home world, again, I wouldn't prevent Merrod the Penultimate Jagaroth from taking off and starting life on Zygor, and I certainly wouldn't go back and kill little Koschei," he said the last one with the hint of sadness in his eyes.

"That is why we need to leave," Lisa finished for him.

"You have a way to leave this lifeless rock," Olljo muttered, "so you are just going to abandon us?" he added with extra venom.

"It isn't as if we have much choice," the Doctor countered, though with not much conviction.

"It's alright for you!" Olljo shouted. "You don't live here you have no idea what it's like! You come here, all high and mighty with your fancy jewellery. I thought it was fancy too, until it took my finger!"

"To be fair, we didn't make you wear it," Lisa pointed out. The broker brought up his hands in fury then slowly deflated, unable to cope with the situation any more.

Kayvon had been silent the entire time. "Maybe you are here for a purpose," he said eventually. All heads turned towards him. he was unfazed by the attention. "You said that you met different types of Cybermen."

The Doctor nodded. "That is true, they weren't always the same. The ones I met later were more sophisticated so could have been down to upgrades."

"Could they have been from different factions?" Kayvon pressed.

The Doctor thought about this for a moment. "Yes, that could be it," he nodded, "though I don't see the relevance..."

"Could there have been a peaceful faction that you never encountered?" Kayvon asked earnestly.

The penny finally dropped. "You want to become a Cyberman?" the Doctor exclaimed. "After everything I have told you?"

"You've seen both sides of society," he argued. "Our existence is pathetic. We can't go on like this, something has to be done. Maybe you are here to create a faction of Cybermen that is peaceful."

Eemon made a muffled sound from the floor and Broxa leant down to remove his gag. "I agree with you Kayvon. We are going to die anyway maybe you can OW." Broxa had kicked him.

"I thought you were going to help," she snarled.

"I am helping," he shrugged. "Would it be possible for you to untie me now, I think the ring's influence has worn off."

"You're not still trying to use that as an excuse still? You weren't wearing it!"

"But there must have been some reason for Olljo to put it on," Eemon leered mischievously. "He doesn't normally try on rings or anything that will just be sold on."

"When you two have quite finished," Kayvon said firmly. He turned his face towards the Doctor. "I understand that the Cybermen will become evil creatures, but maybe we can save some of them."

"On your head be it," the Doctor replied, realising that there was no way to persuade the footpad leader against this course of action. "I will not be a part of it, Lisa and I are leaving as soon as possible. But I do wish you the best of luck with your campaign."

Kayvon turned to Lisa who immediately crushed any hope of support from her. "I cannot see you clearly enough for the kicked puppy look to affect me," she stated. "And he is the expert, I will follow him all the way."

"Lisa please."

"Leave them alone, footpad," Broxa snarled. "Just give them their key and ring and let them get out of here. It's your plan if you believe in it so much do it yourself, don't try to drag them into it."

Kayvon gave up and made his way over to the counter to pick up the items in question. The key was quickly found and tossed back to the Doctor who deposited in a pocket, like he had done with the Vogan all purpose survival kit (the gold penknife), but the ring took longer to locate. Kayvon scrabbled around on the desk for a few seconds before turning back to the rest of the room.

"Does anyone have the ring?" he asked.

Everyone shook their heads. "You had it last," Olljo pointed out.

"I left it here on the desk," Kayvon pointed, "But it isn't there now."

Olljo's eyes widened in horror. "The Cyber-rat must have taken it." The Doctor made some comment about them being called Cybermats not Cyber-rats but was mostly ignored. "It will be halfway to Goldbridge by now, we must get after it."

Kayvon shook his head. "We would never find it now."

"Looks like I am going to have to stay here for a while after all," the Doctor commented. "Only to retrieve the ring of course, who knows the damage it could cause in the hands of the creators of the Cybermen."

Kayvon acknowledged this fact, he wasn't petty enough to ask him to help in his quest while he remained. Olljo peered down at where his finger no longer was with fear. He suggested that they regroup back at the main cave of the footpad tribe so they could come up with a proper strategy, even Eemon agreed that they had find the ring. And so they headed back down the tunnel, after untying Eemon at last, and made their way back to the footpads.

* * *

><p>Upon arrival back at the main cavern Kayvon explained a condensed version of what had occurred in the broker's den. They didn't mention the Doctor's knowledge of the future or what was actually going to happen when they did manage to reach Goldbridge, they only explained about the ring and their need to retrieve it.<p>

The only plan that anyone seemed to be able to come up though relied on them continuing to rob from unsuspecting individuals to pay to Olljo. The Doctor pointed out that they didn't have the time to do that. It was then suggested that Olljo could just lie about how much they had accumulated so that they could get to Goldbridge that way. Unfortunately Olljo revealed that Goldbridge would know if he was lying and he would lose his position. They continued to argue about whether they should actually try to help the outsiders long into the night.

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked Lisa a few hours later when everyone had mostly forgotten about them.

She looked at him in surprise. "Yes," she said quite truthfully. "I think I am finally letting go of him."

"Because we don't have the ring anymore?" the Doctor asked.

Lisa understood the concern in his voice. "I know that we need to get it back," she assured him. "I have just finally realised." She smiled to herself, possibly one of the most care free smiles she had had in a long time. "Back in the cave when Olljo wore the ring, it dawned on me that there was never any love in his actions only selfishness. When you retrieve it, I trust you will dispose of it in a dwarf star or something."

"I think it would be safer in one of the vaults of the TARDIS," the Doctor said and put his arm around her shoulders. Words cannot express how glad he was that she had finally let go. A tingling in his throat reminded him that their troubles were not yet completely over. He resisted for as long as he could before retching loudly and spewing golden bio-energy on the ground in front of him.

They both stared at the ground as the energy slowly dissipated to reveal a thin blue tube. The Doctor picked it up and examined it. "One of Previous' lungs," he said after a moment of examination.

"That isn't a lung," Lisa scoffed, but clearly wasn't so certain as she added: "Is it?"

"Technically no," the Doctor agreed, "but I thought that would be an easier way for you to understand. We do not have lungs in the same way that you do, we have a series of pulmonary tubes very much like this that run parallel to the lymphatic system."

Lisa had no idea what the lymphatic system was but nodded anyway. "I have heard of people talking about trying to cough up their lungs but I never thought I would actually see it happening," she commented.

"It's as if my body is trying to prove that I am still regenerating and I am not just having an extended after-effect period," the Doctor commented. "My insides must not have finished changing. Though why this lung didn't simply change I am not sure." He took a deep breath. "No they are all there, a few are younger than others but, oh that is interesting!" the pulmonary tube slowly faded out of existence. The Doctor couldn't help but laugh in surprise. "If only Drax could see this."

"Um, what just happened?" Lisa asked.

"I have no idea," the Doctor giggled, he suddenly turned serious. "Here comes trouble." He pointed over to where one of the sentries came sprinting into the room.

"Slow down," Kayvon said as the man panted in front of him. "What is happening?"

"We are being attacked! Three men are marching down the tunnel towards us, they ignore our shouts for them to stop and have already killed Gohn and Dicard with some strange energy weapon."

"We had better get down there quickly," the Doctor said, appearing from out of nowhere. He gave Kayvon a knowing glance.

"Yes of course," Kayvon nodded. "Olljo, you're in charge. Eemon with me." he made his way towards the offending tunnel closely followed by the Doctor who was followed by Lisa and Eemon, who was complaining about the fact that they were coming too, and Broxa who was unwilling to be left behind either. The sentry stared after them in confusion. Why were they heading off to face a brutal enemy head on? They needed to stay here and prepare themselves to defend against the assault. He voiced these concerns to Olljo but he bizarrely agreed with them.

* * *

><p>Krail took the lead as they marched down the tunnels. He was the general's right hand man and had been the first Mondasian to have had any conversion done on him. His legs were just like the general's, metal and clanging with every step, but unlike Quadaff his arms had also been replaced. His colleagues were in a similar state, the main difference being that the conversion on their arms was a much improved version of Krail's (they had been converted after him so Dross had improved the design since then) and they wore helmets with visors covering their eyes. They could raise the visors if they wished, but they couldn't remove the helmets. They were wired into their heads allowing them to store and remember a greater amount of information than any normal person could, as well as improve their reaction times. Not one of them was affected by the cold.<p>

As they marched on Krail's partners became aware of something up ahead (the helmets improved their sight and other senses as well) and alerted him. He took a step back so that they were flanking him to give him more protection.

"Identify yourself!" a guard at the end of the tunnel shouted. Krail knew that if he explained where they were from then they would probably be welcomed with open arms. But he and the rest of the soldiers had been sitting in the barracks, doing nothing, for months now; they were bored. So they remained silent.

Eventually the footpads lost their nerve and attacked. The hurled rocks did not cause much damage, only glancing briefly off the helmets of the helmeted soldiers, but that was all the provocation that they needed. Vrax and Mord extended their right arms out and positioned their hands as if they were holding a gun. A panel in the side of their arms slid open to reveal small pistol which flipped out and landed in the waiting hands. They each used the sophisticated technology in their helmets to track their targets and fired at them. Two of the footpads took the green energy blasts in their chests and fell to the ground dead, the soldiers (excluding Krail) had only needed to fire one shot each. The other guard turned tail and fled, they trained their guns on him but never fired once. When he was out of sight the weapons flipped back into their homes in the arms which returned to their sides.

"Why didn't you get him?" Krail asked angrily.

"We would not have hit him," Vrax stated.

"What you mean you don't fire unless you are certain of a direct hit?" Krail questioned.

"It would be a waste of energy otherwise," Vrax nodded. "The computer is never wrong."

"Must take a bit of thrill out of the hunt," Krail moaned.

"We do not know," Vrax said. "Let's find out shall we." He grinned nastily, an expression that the others mirrored, and they proceeded forwards.

"I must say," Mord commented as they went. "It is very odd shooting with my right hand instead of my left." Krail nodded thoughtfully.

* * *

><p>The Doctor and his party came to the checkpoint that the footpads were holding. The footpads had set up various barricades and were cowering behind them brandishing various weapons.<p>

"I see them," one said. "Three of them, two slightly in front of the other."

"Could they be Cybermen?" Lisa whispered.

"They are marching in formation certainly," the Doctor pondered. "That implies that they are an organised military force, even if they are not Cybermen, so must be from Goldbridge. I would need to see them myself to be certain." He crawled towards the front barricade so that he could have a look for himself. He saw them and gazed in wonder.

"Yes they are Cybermen," he confirmed. "Very early Cybermen. Even earlier than the ones I first encountered. The one to the rear has no helmet and is of a slightly different design so is obviously there to act as leader rather than fight. It is interesting to see the different stages of design. Now that is clever!" the Cybermen came in range and brandished their weapons once more. "Why did they abandon that design? That's brilliant!"

Vrax and Mord trained their weapons on the defending Mondasians. After a nod from Krail they fired, killing their targets in one shot. The footpads cowered behind the barricades, getting gunned down whenever they dared to pop their heads up. The Doctor noted on the accuracy of the attackers so called for everyone to keep down. One man ignored this command and was promptly shot by both Cybermen simultaneously.

"How are they so accurate?" Lisa wondered. "They haven't missed once and they have barely fired any shots."

"Their minds have been melded with computers," the Doctor explained. "The accuracy is flawless so there is no need to fire any more shots than is necessary, conservation of energy."

"That is all very interesting," Eemon snarled. "But how do we stop them?"

"What weapons have you got?" the Doctor asked.

"Knives, rocks, blades," Eemon counted on his fingers, "nothing like them. Oh, and smoke grenades."

"Throw a few smoke grenades," the Doctor ordered. "That might confuse them a bit."

The order was quickly transmitted to the frontline and they set about preparing smoke grenades. After a count of three they hurled many smoke grenades over the top of the barricades. Smoke billowed out from the canisters and enveloped the battleground, masking the Cybermen from view. Vrax and Mord could still see clearly through the smoke, thanks to the visors, but due to still possessing organic lungs and eyes like Krail coughed and looked away in an attempt to protect their eyes. Several footpads jumped to their feet and began attacking by hurling various weapons. They did not do much damage, as they were unable to throw accurately due to the smoke.

The smoke began to clear and the Cybermen regained their composure. They were hit a few times by flying rocks but were mostly unharmed, they proceeded to take down the footpads one by one. One footpad hurled a spinning blade like a Frisbee. Vrax acknowledged it out of the corner of his eye but made the mistake of assuming that it was going to glance off his helmet. The blade scythed through the air and cleanly sliced through Vrax's throat.

Blood sprayed in all directions as he gave a strangled cry and began clutching at his neck with his free hand, his other arm fired random shots until Mord shot it rendering it useless. Krail stepped forwards and wrenched the weapon from his hand before gently lowering him to the ground. Mord turned back to the fighting and gave a roar of anger.

"Some Cybermen they are," a voice could be heard saying. "That one was in pain and this one is now angry, they still have a long way to go."

Mord spotted the spinning blade flying through the air once more, this time directed at him. He turned to it and shot it out of the sky as if it were a clay pigeon, he then turned to the stunned thrower and shot him between the eyes causing instant death.

"Boom headshot!" he said. He turned to an angry looking Krail who nodded solemnly. They turned back to the fight, Krail now firing Vrax's weapon. He was not as accurate or conservative as Vrax had been but he was still skilled with it. Energy flew about denting the barricades and cave walls. Everyone dived for cover, except for the Doctor who stared at Krail in astonishment.

"Hold your fire!" he shouted. There was such authority in his voice that the Cybermen found themselves obeying. "We cannot win, we surrender do what you want with us." He slowly raised himself above the barrier holding his hands up.

"Who are you?" Krail asked.

"I am the Doctor," the Doctor responded. "I am not actually part of this tribe, I am just here helping them for the time being."

"I wasn't aware of any doctors working outside of Goldbridge," Krail said, "I'm sure Dr. Mavver would have told me. What is your name?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"Yes," Krail nodded. "But Doctor who?"

"Can't tell you I'm afraid," the Doctor replied with a cheeky grin. "I'm contractually obliged not to. The Silence reckon the universe will end if I answer that, it was the only way to stop them from trying to kill me. Unless they have decided that I can't be trusted to follow a legally binding contract and have sent Sundew after me, now why didn't I think of that before. No surely they would have done it sooner if they were going to do that. Or maybe there has been a change of leadership so that contract has become void."

"We have been sent to collect the individual Kayvon," Krail interrupted. "Is he there."

"Why yes he is," the Doctor replied. "Shall I get him for you Krail."

"How do you know my name? Have we met before?"

The Doctor paused mid-step and turned back towards the soldier. "Yes we have," he nodded. "Well technically you haven't, but I could never forget you. How could I forget the enemy during the adventure in which I died for the first time. Best regeneration I ever had actually, probably due to the fact my body just grew too old and I was ready for it rather than because of an external action that forced it upon me. Technically it was still forced upon me but it was a peaceful, steady end so I could deal with it. Or maybe it is because the first one is always the most stable one."

"How can you have met me when I haven't?" Krail interrupted completely baffled.

"You will see me again in the future," the Doctor clarified. "Your future, my past. But I wouldn't worry your head about it. I'll get Kayvon for you."

He disappeared and then reappeared with a Kayvon at his side. "I am Kayvon," he said. "I lead this tribe, what do you want?"

"You have been chosen to be the first one to undergo a full body conversion," Krail explained. "The doctors back at Goldbridge have reached the conclusion that the way to save us is for us to bond our bodies with machinery. Dr. Mavver is better at explaining than I am."

"You want to turn him into a Cyberman," the Doctor stated.

"A what?"

"Isn't that what you call yourselves?"

"No," Krail shook his head as if it was obvious. "Are you going to come willingly or are you going to continue fighting us. Be aware that we are much stronger than you are, even if you have successfully killed our colleague Vrax. This is an important piece of work that will potentially save us, you could be the first."

"What do you know," the Doctor muttered so that only Kayvon could hear. "Exactly what you wanted."

"I accept," Kayvon said and made his way over to Krail. "I am willing to do anything to save our species."

"Come," Krail turned and led the way back down the tunnel. He paused when he realised that Kayvon wasn't following.

"I don't go anywhere without my doctor," Kayvon said looking back at the Time Lord.

The Doctor smiled and clapped his hands together. "I am sure my expertise would be most welcome, I am half surprised that I haven't already been collected."

Krail sighed but nodded. "You're not going to leave me here alone are you?" Lisa demanded as the Doctor started to make his way towards the Cybermen.

He paused. "And naturally I don't go anywhere without my team," he said. "Lisa, Broxa, come."

Both girls were surprised that the cannibal leader had also been included, Lisa nodded reassuringly at her as she led the way towards the Doctor; Broxa took over when Lisa's lack of glasses made her trip over the barricade.

"Hey what about me?" Eemon shouted after them.

"No more stragglers!" Krail shouted and marched purposefully down the tunnel.

"Oh don't worry," the Doctor replied with ill concealed contempt. "I think you will be much more useful to us if you stay here."

Eemon was left lost for words as the party disappeared from view; Broxa stopped briefly to give him a mocking wave. The Doctor coughed up more bio-energy but was pleased to find no trace of lung in it this time. So he was finally going to Goldbridge, he was going to see the birth of the very first Cyberman. He just had to stop himself from stopping everything, and retrieve the ring. How difficult could that be? Very, he told himself, he had been around long enough to know that things were never simple.

* * *

><p>"When do you reckon it is back home?" the Doctor asked.<p>

"What do you mean?" Lisa asked looking at him quizzically.

"Back on Earth," the Doctor clarified. "What do you reckon is happening?"

"No idea," Lisa replied. "I imagine you are going to tell me though."

"It's Christmas," the Doctor shouted.

"Is it really?" Lisa replied in shock. "But we were nowhere near it when we..."

"I am a Time Lord," the Doctor interrupted. "I know."

"So why are you telling me this now?"

"Well I just realised that while many people will be enjoying themselves by opening presents, stuffing themselves full of turkey and flying off the the German Christmas markets, others are not so fortunate. There are those who may have to spend Christmas in hospital, or starving in the cold streets and will miss the Christmas specials of Eastenders and Doctor Who."

"What's Doctor Who?" Lisa interrupted

"Cult Sci fi series," the Doctor explained. "It was cancelled in 1989 and brought back for 2005, black holes know why. It was cancelled for a reason and it completely failed to live up to the hype when it returned. I wouldnt worry about missing that, it was always a bit cheesy and pretentious, the reboot did nothing to change that. And it is even worse now that William Hartnell isn't in the lead, he was the only thing that made it bearable. I mean how could they think to carry on after he left?

"No some people will not celebrate Christmas properly at all. Broxa and Kayvon don't even know what Christmas is!"

Lisa realised where this was going. "No, you are not going to sing! No singing! No!"

The Doctor smiled at her cheekily and began to sing, and carried on singing ignoring Lisa's protests and urging the others to join in at the end.

"It's Christmas time,  
>there's no need to be afraid.<br>At Christmas time  
>we let in light and banish shade<br>And in our world of plenty  
>we can spread a smile of Joy<br>Throw your arms around the world  
>at Christmas time.<p>

But say a prayer,  
>Pray for the other ones.<br>At Christmas time it's hard  
>but when you're having fun...<br>There's a world outside your window  
>and it's a world of dread and fear<br>Where the only water flowing is  
>the bitter sting of tears<br>Where the Christmas bells that are ringing  
>are the clanging chimes of Doom<br>Well, tonight thank God it's them instead of you.

And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time  
>The greatest gift they'll get this year is life.<br>Ohh...  
>Where nothing ever grows<br>No rain or rivers flow  
>Do they know it's Christmas time at all?<p>

Here's to you...  
>Raise a glass for everyone<br>Here's to them  
>Underneath that burning sun<br>Do they know it's Christmas time at all?

Feed the world...  
>Feed the world...<p>

Feed the world,  
>Let them know it's Christmas time again.<br>Feed the world,  
>Let them know it's Christmas time again.<br>Feed the world,  
>Let them know it's Christmas time again.<br>Feed the world,  
>Let them know it's Christmas time again."<p>

Merry Christmas.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: in case you were wondering, Krail is the lead Cyberman from The Tenth Planet. I thought it was interesting that the original Cybermen had names, and it has allowed me to include one of them in this story without going against canon too much.<strong>

**The final section was added, when I realised that this part would be my last update before Christmas, as a silly interlude to wish you all a merry Christmas from the Doctor, I of course love Doctor Who past and present I just couldn't resist the idea of the Doctor ribbing his own show. The chapter really ended in the section before. If you do not know what the song is, where have you been all these years?  
><strong>


	15. Nemesis 6

**Author's note: Happy new year! I am back at last, time for us to find out what happens next. A big hello to new reader Mericat, hopefully I will be seeing even more reviews from you in the future**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6<span>

"We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz."

"Oh shut up," Lisa moaned.

"No I quite like it," Broxa said. The Doctor beamed and resumed the singing.

"You will regret that one day," Lisa warned. The cannibal merely shrugged.

The journey through the tunnels had been surprisingly pleasant, the Cybermen obviously didn't want to cause any undue stress for their potential brother. After a few miles of trekking through almost pitch black tunnels they became aware of light. The blackness and unnatural light that had haunted them since landing on this rock was finally going to give way to the light of the sun.

"Hold on!" The Doctor stopped. "How can we be getting any daylight when the sun is too far away for us to receive its benefit?"

Kayvon, Lisa and Broxa all stopped and looked at one another, sharing the confusion. The Cybermen continued regardless eventually causing the rest to follow on regardless. As they slowly came to the exit the light got brighter and brighter. When they finally exited the tunnel they were completely dazzled, only Mord was immune. Once they had adjusted to the brightness that none, other than Krail, had experienced in a long time, especially the natives, they were able to make out what was causing the bright lights. It was a vehicle, much like an Earth Jeep, with four large wheels with thick tyres perfect for the rugged terrain.

A man with similar implants to Krail leant out of the cockpit upon noticing them. He was only wearing a tank top showing that the conversion on his arms came to a stop a couple of inches from his shoulders. Broxa was used to the cold by this time but found herself shivering upon laying eyes on him.

"What is all this?" the man asked, gesturing to the party. "I thought you were only here for one person. I'm not sure they will all fit."

"Vrax is dead," Krail informed him. "The man staring at you in wonder is Kayvon's personal doctor who he insisted on bringing along."

"A Doctor?" the driver's eyebrows cocked in interest. "And the females?"

"The Doctor's assistants," Kayvon supplied.

"Ok," the driver nodded. "We had better get away before the cannibals come down on us."

Broxa smiled maliciously. "Oh, they are already here," she smirked.

Everyone's eyes whipped round to search for the oncoming attackers. They were unable to see any, the bright lights of the jeep making everything outside of their arc pitch black. Mord brandished his pistol and slowly swivelled around whilst pointing it into the darkness. Krail brandished Vrax's pistol like before and squinted to try and see better in the dark. Broxa continued to smile, making Kayvon and Lisa realise that she was actually referring to herself rather than any others that she had spotted.

"Probably not such a good idea," Lisa murmured in her ear.

"Oh let them sweat for a bit," she shrugged. "I'm in no danger unless you decide to rumble me."

The driver leaned back into the jeep and came out with a device that looked like large lamp that was held by two handles on either side of the square body. The Doctor recognised it instantly. It was one of the weapons that the Cybermen had used in his first encounter with them.

"Well that explains it," the Doctor declared. "They sent the decrepit, out of date ones down for that mission. The most expendable ones, the ones that needed to be removed somehow. Though considering the importance of that mission you would have thought they would have sent their best, like Vrax or Mord. Perhaps something happens, which I am not aware of, that forces the old Cybermen to take up the mission."

"I do not see anything," Mord said, showing no signs of having heard what the Doctor had said.

The Driver stowed his weapon back in the jeep. "We had better set off," he said. Everyone agreed and promptly began to load into the jeep, the Doctor remained motionless even after everyone else had made themselves comfortable. The driver was about to call him up when he held up a finger for silence. He rubbed his chest lightly and screwed up his face in concentration before letting out a loud burp which sprayed tiny flecks of gold.

He smiled up at the driver. "That's better." He made his way over the jeep and jumped onto its side, hanging off one of the roll bars with one arm and pointing in front of the vehicle using the other. "Follow that van, Gern," he ordered before ducking into the back and seating himself in between Broxa and Lisa.

"How does he know my n..."

"Just drive," Krail cut the driver off. "I'll explain as we go."

The driver gunned the engine and the jeep shot forwards, disappearing into the night.

* * *

><p>The jeep roared as it thundered across the rugged Mondasian terrain. The Doctor had been quiet for most of the journey, much to Lisa's surprise, but at this moment he suddenly began to tap a rhythm on his lap. He was very casual about it, only Lisa realised what it would lead to but didn't do anything to stop him as she knew that would only make it worse for when he next did it. The rhythm grew in intensity until the Doctor began to sing once more.<p>

Gern glanced back in surprise. "A bit jolly isn't he?" he commented.

"We all cope with disaster in our own way," Krail shrugged.

"Yes, I get that," Gern said. "But it happened so long ago."

"I know," Krail replied hopelessly. "He is... strange. He must be working undercover on Dr. Mavver's orders, how else would he have known our names."

"But what could be gained from having him out here?"

"Maybe it was he that identified Kayvon as the perfect man for the first conversion," Krail suggested.

"It makes me uneasy," Gern commented, "Those doctor's playing games behind our backs like that."

Krail shrugged. "Our future is in their hands, we shouldn't really complain."

In the back the Doctor's singing reached a crescendo.

"Tonight I gotta cut Loose, footloose, kick off your Sunday shoes.  
>Please, Louise, pull me off a my knees.<br>Jack, get back, c'mon before we crack.  
>Lose your blues, everybody cut footloose!"<p>

Soon all the inhabitants of the vehicle were clapping out the rhythm, even the Cybermen, and Broxa even joined in with the chorus. Overall the rest of the journey was very pleasant for everyone. All of a sudden Broxa sat up sharply in her seat staring straight out in front of the jeep, the passengers all followed her gaze. Just becoming visible in the distance was a huge structure. It towered at least a mile into the sky whilst being as wide as two football pitches. The huge windows threw light across the surrounding area making it almost seem like daylight. The Doctor recognised this design of cubes and cuboids welded together.

"It's a ship," he breathed.

"It is," Krail confirmed, slightly surprised the Doctor had realised. "Welcome to the Goldbridge."

"Hold on," Lisa said. "If you have a ship here, why don't you just leave for another habitable planet?"

"Don't have the energy to make it out of the atmosphere," Gern said. "Even if we did there are no planets near enough for us to make it, and we can't take everyone."

"No," Krail agreed. "We couldn't abandon the rest of the planet's population could we."

The Doctor continued to stare up at the massive structure that was getting bigger by the minute. _How ironic,_ he thought,_ who would have thought that their most infamous Cybership would be named after the substance that all but destroyed them in the Cyber-Wars._ Yet another thing he had to be careful not to break.

* * *

><p>They were met at the sliding door by a middle aged man wearing a jacket of a similar design to the other Cybermen. He had short-cropped dark hair and a bristly moustache. Unlike the other Cybermen that they had encountered so far, only his legs had been converted. He regarded the visitors with suspicion.<p>

"Which one of you is Kayvon?" he interrogated. Kayvon slowly raised his arm, unsure of how to react. General Quadaff smiled. "Our saviour has arrived. Take him to the main theatre." Mord led the footpad leader into the building. Krail and Gern remained where they were. "Who are the rest of you?"

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor held up his hand for it to be shaken, it was ignored. "This is Lisa and Broxa."

"Mayor Broxa," Broxa corrected smiling widely.

"I'm not sure you can still claim that title," Lisa murmured.

"Why not? No one has replaced me," she retorted. "I'm still mayor of my tribe, even if I am the only member of my tribe left."

Quadaff ignored the argument and just stared at the Doctor with interest. "A doctor?"

"That is correct."

"What have you been doing out in the wilderness?" he asked suspiciously.

The Doctor shrugged. "You know, doctory stuff."

"Could you be more specific?" he queried. "Why are you out there, rather than in here helping us!"

"Research?" Lisa suggested.

"So Mavver did send you," Krail exclaimed.

"Short stumpy bloke with one eye and a limp?"

"No that's Streevans," Quadaff said.

Krail raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Why would he need to send someone off for some field research?"

"Who can say," the Doctor shrugged.

"You were the one sent," Gern pointed out. "Surely you know."

The Doctor grinned cheekily. "Survey of the inhabitants," he made up on the spot. "It was good you arrived when you did, it thought we were never going to make it to Goldbridge."

The soldiers seemed to accept this explanation, Quadaff didn't seem very happy about it though. "Damn them, they always go behind my back," he snarled.

"They are doing everything for our benefit, sir," Krail reminded him.

"Just so long as he stops screwing around and gets it done," he barked and stalked off. Gern muttered something about the General's situation being a sad one and disappeared himself.

"He's dying," the Doctor realised. Broxa and Lisa exchanged a glance of surprise. Krail nodded and turned to leave. "Could you take us to where Kayvon is please," the Doctor said before he could disappear.

Krail turned to him in confusion. "He will be in the main theatre like General Quadaff said," he said.

"Yes I heard," the Doctor said patiently. "Could you take us there please."

"It's in the same place it was before," Krail dismissed. He turned to leave once more.

Broxa quickly jumped in his way to prevent his leaving. Normally the Cyberman would have been very confident of getting past a short girl like her, but there was something about this girl that made him feel uneasy. She stood in a strangely confident composure whilst grinning elfishly, and then there was that glint in her eye. He turned back towards the Doctor.

"It has been such a long time since we have been here," the Doctor elaborated. "It would be very helpful if you could remind us of the way."

Krail looked back at Broxa and then the Doctor. "Ok, just this once," he finally agreed.

"Thank you Krail," Broxa said sweetly as she allowed him to pass. They all fell into step as he led them through the chilling metal corridors of Goldbridge.

* * *

><p>Eemon strode back into the main chamber of the footpad's section of tunnels. He moved into the centre of the room and gave a shout to grab everyone's attention. It took a couple of shouts but he eventually got everyone's attention, Olljo eyed him suspiciously.<p>

"Kayvon has gone down to Goldbridge," Eemon declared. "He is going to be the first to receive an operation that will allow him to cheat death." He paused to allow everyone to digest the statement. "Mondas is dead, eventually we will die too, but thanks to the work of Goldbridge we need not die; we can survive. Kayvon is out there to act as a test, to prove that their operation works. It may not succeed for him, he could die. He knows that, he is potentially sacrificing himself so that we can live. We too shall go to Goldbridge, and we shall also have the operation. Even if it fails for Kayvon it will be safe for us. We shall become immortals!"

Such was the energy of his speech that the footpads found themselves cheering loudly at the climax. Eemon stretched out his arms and leaned back to allow the cheers to wash over him. only one didn't cheer.

"And how are we going to get to Goldbridge ourselves?" Olljo stepped forwards so that he was directly in front of him. "The transport has left and we have no way of calling it back."

Eemon brought his arms back to his side and gave the broker a smug glare. "That is where you are wrong," he said. "I have been onto the broker's computer, there is a new offer from Goldbridge. This cheaper one offers us a chance to take the operation rather than be frozen. We have enough for this new offer, so I have been able to call the transport in that way."

Olljo looked around at the footpads, they were all hanging off Eemon's every word. He drew closer and spoke so only he and Eemon could hear. "You were there when the Doctor told us about the Cybermen," he murmured. "You know what will really happen to us."

"I do," Eemon nodded, "and I don't care. I am willing to do anything to survive and if it means having my humanity stripped away, then so be it. Besides, with the Doctor's knowledge of our future I can prevent him from stopping us. We can become the rulers of the universe."

Olljo stared at him in shock. He had completely gone mad at the prospect of power. He whipped round and shouted at the assembled footpads. "Listen to me! It's all lies, they will not save us, they will turn us into monsters!"

"Lies," Eemon shouted. "You don't want us to have it, you would rather we died in our caves."

"That isn't true! Listen the Doctor..."

"He knew that you were up to no good," Eemon cut in. "He has taken Kayvon to Goldbridge to make sure that they will be successful."

"You lie! The Doctor hates what they are doing!"

"It is you who is trying to stop it!" Eemon roared. "We could have taken up this offer sooner, but you have hidden it from us. I only found it because I went to look on your computer. How do explain that broker?"

Olljo was lost for words. "I never hid anything," he breathed.

"You must have done, it was on your computer," Eemon smirked.

Olljo growled and launched himself at Eemon. They rolled on the floor, no one daring to interfere, until Olljo found himself on top. He began to throw punches whilst roaring: "You coward! We will not survive, we will die and be replaced by monsters roaming in our bodies!"

He was clearly much stronger than Eemon and was easily able to keep him pinned, but there was one massive chink in his armour that was ruthlessly exploited. Eemon grabbed at his hand and jabbed his finger down on the point where his finger had been bitten off. He mercilessly pressed into the wound, causing the broker to roar in pain and blood to seep through the dressing. With Olljo paralysed by pain he was able to knock him off and stood up whilst the broker writhed on the floor.

He pulled out a knife from his belt and brandished it in his hands. Before Olljo could recover he plunged the blade into his chest. The broker forgot about the pain of his missing finger and clutched at his chest where a pool of blood began to form.

"He is a traitor!" Eemon shouted pointing his blood stained knife towards the ceiling. "He tried to stop us from going to Goldbridge. The time is nigh, we shall go to Goldbridge. "Who's with me?"

Everyone cheered in response and followed him towards the tunnel exit. Olljo was left all alone, lying in his own blood and faeces. He moaned in pain as blood welled up in his mouth, then leaned back as the life slowly drained out of him. Olljo the broker died all alone with no one to comfort him. Or that was the plan at least. Eemon didn't count on someone suddenly teleporting in at the vital moment.

* * *

><p>Kayvon was strapped down to a bench with a disconcerting array of devices surrounding him. He had been stripped down to a vest and boxer shorts so was shivering vigorously. Dr. Dross Mavver stood at another bench preparing a syringe filled with a grey swirling chemical.<p>

"Cold Kayvon?" Dross said as he turned round to face him. Kayvon gritted his teeth and nodded. Dross nodded. "The nanites will enter your system and remove that sensation, it will act as an anaesthetic as well so that the process causes as little discomfort as possible."

"Nanites?"

"Microscopic machines," Dross explained. "We all have them in our system, preventing us from feeling the cold."

"Is that necessary?" Kayvon wondered.

"It saves energy," Dross nodded, "we do not have to heat the citadel."

He leant down to inject the nanites into Kayvon's arm. The door slid open loudly causing him to stop and whip round. He snarled at the party that had entered the room. "Krail, you know I don't like being disturbed when I am working!"

"I'm sorry Dr, but the Doctor and his party insisted on me taking them here," Krail apologised.

"I am really fascinated by how you are going to do it," the Doctor enthused. "I have heard of many ways for a Cyberman to be created but I have always been curious as to how it was done originally. How are you Kayvon?"

"Bloody freezing," he replied honestly. "He was about to inject me with tiny robots that would remove my sensation to feel cold, so could you get on with it please."

Dross turned back to his patient and prepared to inject him once more. "I am pleased that my work fascinates you," he said. "But this is an important piece of work and this is the first time I have attempted this, so I can't have any distractions. You will have to watch next time."

"You won't even know we are here," the Doctor replied. "And Kayvon wanted us to be here."

Dross stopped and looked at Kayvon who nodded vigorously. "Very well," he conceded. "But no distractions or interferences. Krail, leave us."

Krail nodded and took his leave. Dross turned back to Kayvon and poised the needle ready to stick it into Kayvon's arm. He paused, expecting the Doctor to ask some question but he remained silent, before finally jabbing it in and injecting the nanites into Kayvon's system.

"It will take a few minutes before the nanites can get to work," Dross said. "I won't do anything more until they are completely active."

"Oh, that is weird," Kayvon said writhing around on the bench. "I can feel them moving about."

Surprisingly it was Broxa who seemed to find this description most disturbing. She shuddered and rubbed her arms as if there were ants crawling all over her. "Is there a sample of the nanites that I can look at?" the Doctor asked.

Dross nodded and pointed over to a microscope. The Doctor and Lisa went over and peered through the scope trained on a Petri dish of nanites. "Look at them!" the Doctor said in the manner of a keen bird watcher stumbling upon a nest of chicks. "Aren't they beautiful!"

"They just look like a load of silver tadpoles," Lisa shrugged.

"Magnificent workmanship," the Doctor enthused. "I haven't seen anything so good since the Repair Robots that worked on the SS Madame de Pompadour. You just have to see the clockwork mechanism through their glass shells to understand. Completely clockwork mechanism yet they had fail safes to allow them to defrost themselves or eject unwanted fluids from their systems, some flaw in the programming though as they ended up killing the crew of the ship for spare parts when the ship was damaged by an ion storm. And they thought that the brain of the real Madame de Pompadour would be a perfect substitute for the flight computer."

Broxa was stood beside Kayvon putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He stopped shivering. "Do you feel warm?" she asked.

"No," Kayvon said confused. "It's really strange, I don't feel hot or cold but I don't feel warm. It's as if my whole capacity for feeling heat has gone."

"Are you going to be ok?" she asked, concerned about how pasty he was suddenly looking.

He raised his eyebrows. "Since when did you care? I'm the enemy," he said.

She shrugged. "You were kind to me even when the others wanted to kill me," she said.

"Stand back," Dross came up to the side of Kayvon holding an empty syringe aloft. Broxa stepped back quickly to allow the doctor access. Dross stabbed the needle into Kayvon's hand. Kayvon stared back at the doctor in horror. "Do you feel anything?"

"Oh yes," he nodded, slightly disconcerted. "It doesn't hurt but I can feel it alright."

"Excellent, I'll just take a sample of your blood to analyse and then we can begin," Dross removed the needle and gently took a blood sample from his vein.

* * *

><p>General Quadaff paced up and down in his personal quarters. They were so close to succeeding yet he knew that it could prove to be a false dawn, Dross had failed many times with the rats. He paused and looked at a picture perched on his bedside table, it showed a woman a few years older than him. She had died years before her time, although everyone died before their time now. He was determined not to follow in her footsteps. He looked away from his late wife and jumped out of his skin.<p>

"My apologies general," the fat man with blue skin said, "but I thought I had better come directly to you."

"How did you get in here?" Quadaff accused.

"That is not important," the man sniffed, subtly shifting the sleeve of his voluminous robes to cover a vortex manipulator on his wrist. "You should be more concerned about the Doctor."

"Streevans' man? What could possibly be so dangerous about him?" Quadaff asked in confusion.

"Is that the lie he has told you?" the man shook his head. "He always lies. No he is from the future."

"The future?"

"That's right," the man nodded. "He means to stop you from finishing your work."

"He's going to what?" Quadaff didn't quite follow.

The man sighed. "You are trying to bond man with metal to create a sort of Cyberman, if you will. He means to make you fail, he wants you to die out."

"Why would he want that?"

"He is from the future," the man repeated. "What you will become will act as one of his greatest foes, one that caused him great pain. He means to destroy you to create a prettier timeline for himself."

Quadaff turned and put his head in his hands, this revelation was overwhelming. "How do you know this?"

"I am from the future myself," the man revealed, knowing that he was safe to do so now. "I am an assassin who has been sent to kill him, Superior Jarion at your service."

"I am in your debt Jarion," Quadaff growled storming over to a communicator in the wall. "Krail are you there?"

The screen flickered and Krail's face appeared. "What is it general?"

"Where is the Doctor?" he barked.

"He is in the main theatre," Krail said.

Quadaff's eyes widened in horror. "Oh god, send someone up there now!" he shouted. "He is going to sabotage the conversion process." It was Krail's turn to be confused. "He is not working with us he means for us to be extinct!"

"I'll send Mord up right away," Krail said frantically. "What are the orders for engagement?"

"Kill him," Quadaff growled. "The Doctor cannot be allowed to survive."

Behind him Superior Jarion pulled a rifle from his robes and grinned evilly, _the prize shall be mine_, he thought. There was no way that the Doctor could survive this one, he was alone on a hostile planet with no Judoon and no UNIT. And unlike Alkrad, Jarion would not be talked into defecting.

* * *

><p>Kayvon flexed his brand new robotic fingers. His arms and legs had been converted and Dross was just preparing for the rest of the procedure that would completely transform Kayvon into a Cyberman.<p>

"Why didn't you give him one of those arms with the weapon concealed in it?" the Doctor asked. "They are much better than the ones he has got."

"At this stage of development he could become unstable by the process, and he isn't meant to be a soldier," Dross replied. He turned back to his patient. "How are you feeling?"

"Ok," Kayvon nodded, "everything seems to be in order."

"Good. Now for the tricky bit," Dross pressed a button bringing a circular saw to life. "If this goes wrong, I must say you have been pleasant company."

"You mean I haven't whinged about the pain," Kayvon replied.

Dross smiled and brought the saw down.

* * *

><p>"Loose, footloose, kick off your Sunday shoes."<p>

"Is this going to take much longer," Eemon said impatiently.

"Not far now," Gern said, slightly upset that he had been interrupted. If the Doctor had done nothing for the planet he had at least he had brought the joys of music to one Cyberman. Eemon folded his arms and prayed that the driver didn't start singing again.

"What was that you were singing?" one of the men in the back of the jeep asked.

"Just a song that doctor was singing when I brought him down," Gern said. "Quite catchy isn't it."

"Actually I think it is a little irritating," the footpad replied.

Gern shrugged and concentrated on his driving. After a few seconds the citadel of Goldbridge came into view. "There it is," he said. "Salvation!"

Eemon couldn't help himself from grinning. If anyone had seen the grin they would have been concerned about his sanity, for it was slightly devilish.


	16. Nemesis 7

**Author's note: I should warn you that the first paragraph is very graphic and may be upsetting to some, my skin crawled whilst writing it. It is essentially my imaginings of a Cyberman without the covering over its components. (a naked Cyberman if you like). **

**This is a much earlier update, to make up for the break for Christmas and the new year. I shall hopefully return to weekly updates, next week.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7<span>

The door to the main theatre slid open with a hiss. The people inside barely acknowledged Mord entering, they were busy watching the end of Kayvon's conversion. It was not the streamlined efficiency of the later Cybermen that the Doctor faced but it was by no means as bulky or ridiculous looking as what Krail and Gern would become. There was no chest unit like other Cybermen, they were obviously part of the brainwashing process. There was no covering over the parts, you could still see the pistons in the arms and legs and cogs in his chest. There were several areas that were still organic. The cybernetic arms gripped the remains of his real arms with a five-pronged claw, a similar thing happened with his legs. On his chest you could see his ribs from where the skin had been peeled away but, luckily for Lisa who had a sensitive stomach, the remaining organs (lungs) were hidden by metal. There were several tubes feeding from the chest all the way to the ends of the limbs, passing both lubricant to the moving parts and vital oxygenated fluids to the organic remains. His neck was untouched but was as pasty as the rest of the skin that remained intact. On his head was a helmet exactly like Mord's with a visor that covered his eyes. His face was horrific to say the least. The skin had been peeled away revealing the bone of the jaw beneath, a metal pin prevented the lower half from simply falling away. The jaw opened and Kayvon gave a metallic moan.

Dross came back from his workbench and stood over his patient. "How are you feeling Kayvon?" Dross asked.

"I feel," Kayvon replied, his voice eerily machine like, "strange." As he spoke his jaw moved in time with his words.

"The visor isn't big enough," the Doctor commented, the girls nodded in unison. "Oh hello Mord," the Doctor said cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"

Mord stared at him with fury and brought his right arm up in front of him, the hatch in his arm slid open and the pistol was flipped into his hand. The Doctor was already moving, he instantly dived to the floor; catching Lisa and Broxa with him. Mord stared in surprise as the blast of energy harmlessly hit the wall.

"But I never miss," he said.

"Mord, what are you doing?" Dross asked in surprise.

Mord was brought back to reality and he whipped his pistol back round to point it at the Doctor. This time the Doctor couldn't get out of the way in time without leaving the girls behind to take the shot; and they were less likely to survive than him. He remained frozen maintaining a hypnotic staring contest with the Cyberman.

"You have been deceiving us," Mord accused. "You are not Dr. Streevans' assistant, you are a spy who is here to prevent the doctors from successfully saving us."

Dross was shocked by this revelation. "Is this true?"

"Why would you care, you haven't given any of us a second glance the whole time," Lisa retorted.

"50% isn't bad, you are right in your surmise that I am not the assistant of some ailing doctor that cannot walk properly despite working in a place where replacement limbs are readily available. Although I notice that John Lumic over there has not had any upgrades himself, is that to do with him not trusting anyone else to perform the conversion for him – which would be a massive flaw in this whole plan if that is the case – or are you concentrating on converting the soldiers first? If that's the case it seems very foolish as the soldiers are the ones with the real power and are unlikely to allow you to remain around when they no longer need you."

"What did you call me?" Dross asked ignoring the rest of his rant.

"John Lumic, is that not your name?" the Doctor asked not averting his gaze.

"No I am Dross Mavver."

The Doctor whipped his head round in surprise. "What? But that is nothing like your parallel universe's. Well I suppose you are from different planets and his aim was slightly different to yours."

"So you are admitting it," Mord stated.

"I am confirming that I am not from around these parts," the Doctor replied. "But I am not here to stop you. Kayvon is our friend why would I want it to go wrong for him?"

"Even so I have my orders," Mord dismissed.

"Very well, take me to your leader. Hey there I go again, what do you think of that Lisa?" the Doctor said excitedly.

"I think you should stop making such a big deal out of saying it," she replied.

"No, my orders are to kill you," Mord said coldly.

"You can't do that!" Broxa screamed. "He hasn't done anything!"

"What sort of justice is this?" Lisa shouted, similarly horrified. "Shoot first and ask questions later that reveal that the one you have already killed was in fact innocent."

"Dross have I done anything to sabotage your operation?" the Doctor asked calmly.

"It makes no difference what he says," Mord snapped. "This order comes from the General, and I am not about to disobey him now am I? Goodbye Doctor."

"No!" Kayvon had been completely silent up till now. He gave a roar and broke free from the restraints as if they were made of paper. He leaped to his feet and punched Mord with such strength that he flew backwards and indented himself in the wall. Kayvon advanced, daring him to make a move to get out again. After a few paced he stopped and turned to the Doctor.

"Run," he said with his new robotic voice. "Don't worry about me."

The Doctor and the girls needed no further encouragement. They were out the door like a rocket. In the doorway the Doctor paused and turned back to see Kayvon looking down at his arms as if seeing them for the first time. Mord raised his gun and fired at the Doctor, missing three times before the Doctor finally fled.

Dross approached the newly converted Cyberman cautiously. Kayvon slowly brought his hands to his face and gave off an horrific scream. He didn't stop, he no longer needed to stop to take a breath.

"Kayvon calm down," Dross said panicked.

"I could silence him for..."

"No you won't!" Dross shouted. "He is the first of our future, we must preserve him."

Kayvon stopped screaming and said "What have I done" before kneeling down and curling into a ball. There was a crackle on the radio alerting them that Gern had arrived with the next batch of footpads who had paid to be converted.

"Just what I need," Dross muttered bitterly. "More expectant patients when I need to refine the process." He stared down at Kayvon's body with pity.

* * *

><p>"What is going on Doctor?" Lisa asked as they sprinted down the corridor.<p>

"I don't know," the Doctor shouted back. "And it's not often that I say that so treat it as a bad sign. The General must have realised that we are not really assistants to one of the obscure doctors so has decided that we are a threat that must be removed."

The Doctor turned a corner and quickly back pedalled causing his two companions to collide with him. They landed on a heap on the floor. The reason for the Doctor's sudden reverse in direction was made apparent when a soldier, converted in the same way as Mord, came out from the corridor and trained his pistol on the Doctor. They all froze and stared down the barrel of the gun.

"You two had better move otherwise I am likely to kill you too," the Cyberman said.

"Thank you very much," the Doctor said getting up to leave.

"Not you," the Cyberman barked. "You are the one I am going to kill, I'm just giving your friends the chance to get away."

"I'm not leaving you, Doctor," Lisa said defiantly, grabbing hold of his arm.

Broxa eyed the pistol carefully and nodded. "Fair enough," she shrugged and casually strolled past the Cyberman.

"Broxa!" Lisa shouted but she was ignored. She and the Doctor stared fearfully at the Cyberman.

"Parlay?" the Doctor suggested. The Cyberman gave no indication of any willingness to take them to his leader. "Well I suppose they are more like guidelines than actual rules."

The Cyberman pointed the weapon at them and squeezed the trigger. Arms suddenly wrapped around his neck from behind making him gasp in pain and preventing him from completing the shot. He spun around revealing Mayor Broxa hanging down his back, her legs kicked wildly in an attempt to prevent herself from losing grip. The Cyberman thrashed wildly and eventually managed to knock her off with his superior strength. He whipped round and pointed the pistol at her.

"Very foolish of you, girl," he snarled.

The Doctor was by his side in an instant and had pulled his arm away. "That's not very nice," he said. The Cyberman tried to pull his arm away but the Doctor maintained a firm grip. He pulled out his penknife with his free hand, flicked open a tool that looked exactly like a fork (because it was a fork) and stabbed it into the Cyberman's arm. The Cyberman tried to pull away but found himself unable to, the strength was slowly draining from the affected limb. Eventually he dropped his pistol to the ground and the Doctor used this as a signal to throw him up against the wall. He cowered against the wall moaning in pain as his right arm hung limply.

"Run!" the Doctor shouted. "Before he remembers about his other arm."

The girls didn't need telling twice. As they ran the Doctor spoke to Broxa. "I was expecting something a bit more foolproof to that suicidal attempt."

"I didn't think he would be so strong," she replied honestly.

"So the Cybernetic limbs wasn't enough of a clue?"

"What did you do to him?" Lisa asked.

"I blocked the flow of fluid," he explained. "Basically gave him a dead arm. Normally the fluids are corrosive enough to break down any blockages in the pipes, but gold is a perfect, non-corrodible substance."

"The fork's made of gold?"

"Yes I got this penknife on Voga, the planet of gold," the Doctor said. "Only the handle isn't made of gold. Very weak for any normal use but perfect for dealing with any Cybermen. Unfortunately they are not completely converted yet so I can only use it to incapacitate them like with the last one."

He paused as they came to a bend in the corridor, the girls were careful to stop with him this time. He peered round the corner and whipped it back around in time to avoid a red laser burst. He looked at them gravely.

"Well that explains why they have suddenly turned on me," he commented.

"Why?" Lisa asked. "What did you see?"

"An assassin," the Doctor said.

"From Sundew?" Lisa's eyes widened in shock. The Doctor nodded while Broxa remained confused.

"They must have worked out the error I made," the Doctor commented. "Back the way we went, we may be able to trick the Cybermen but we won't be able to fool him."

They turned and went back the way they had just come, with Broxa loudly asking what was going on.

* * *

><p>Jarion fired several shots with his rifle at the retreating figures but missed every time. "Go on," he urged the Cybermen flanking him, "attack."<p>

"We would not hit them at this range," one of them stated, "as you have just proven."

Jarion glared daggers at the Cyberman but let the comment slide. "We need to cut them off," he said. "Is there a way to get in front of them?"

"Of course."

"Right you and you head that way," Jarion ordered. "Radio some of your colleagues so they can cover the other exits. You come with me, we'll hunt them from behind."

The two indicated Cybermen peeled off down another corridor leaving Jarion alone with the third Cyberman. They proceeded swiftly, keeping the Doctor just in sight. For some reason the Cyberman was keeping a keen eye on the Superior. They turned a corner and discovered that the Doctor was nowhere in sight, they had lost him.

"Shouldn't you be more concerned?" the Cyberman asked in response to Jarion's lack of concern.

"The number of you around this place," Jarion smirked. "I don't have to worry about killing him myself, one of you is bound to get him. I just have to make sure he is dead afterwards."

"Seems a bit cheap," the Cyberman commented. "Taking credit for someone else's kill."

"Yes well the Master isn't going to find out that it was you lot that killed him," Jarion shrugged. "Besides I masterminded you all turning on him so they would probably accept that as technically my kill."

"Yes that was very cunning of you," the Cyberman agreed.

Jarion froze and gave him a quizzical look. "Petris," he said. The Cyberman flinched ever so slightly in shock, that was all Jarion needed to know. He brought up his rifle and swiftly shot him twice in the chest. The Cyberman screamed in pain and collapsed against the wall. Ever so slowly he changed. After a few seconds the Cyberman had morphed back into his true form, that of a bluish green Zygon.

Jarion sneered at the dying alien. "Petris is a fool, he should never have sent someone as inexperienced as you on this assignment. He killed you, not me. Surely if he was so keen to stop me he should have come here himself."

Something thin and sharp suddenly pierced his neck. Jarion gave a gasp and clutched at the affected area but only succeeded in driving it further in. The strength slowly drained from his body and he collapsed to the floor. He watched as the red and black Zygon swaggered into view, still pointing his augmented right hand at where his fellow Superior had fallen.

"Surely if you were so keen to get him first you should not have come alone," Petris mocked. "Don't worry, the paralysis will wear off eventually. Unfortunately the venom will have killed you by then."

He stared down pitifully at his fallen comrade. "Such a careless boy," he muttered. "This was bound to happen at some point." He continued down the corridor. "Make sure Grob's body is dealt with appropriately," he said into a communicator that was almost invisible on his skin due to the organic nature of it. The Zygon's body behind him slowly disappeared as the crew of his ship beamed him back aboard.

Petris turned a corner and slowly began to change. "Sending the Cybermen after him was cunning, but ultimately flawed," he said as he changed. "He has been up against them countless times and they have never succeeded so it is unlikely they will succeed now. No." His voice changed as the transformation reached completion. "The way to defeat him is to infiltrate his camp."

He brushed his long dark hair out of his eyes with a hand that was missing one of its fingers before making off in a sprint towards where the Doctor supposedly was. It had been a stroke of luck stumbling across this Mondasian when he did, a moment later and he would have almost certainly died of his wounds. Petris concentrated his mind so that he could better convince the Doctor that he was indeed the broker Olljo, and let that be his ultimate mistake.

* * *

><p>"I don't understand it," Dross said as he examined the Cyberman that had been stabbed in the arm. "You're saying he stabbed something into your arm which blocked the flow of fluids long enough to put your arm to sleep." The Cyberman nodded. "The fluid should have corroded any blockages, that is why I made it so corrosive in the first place."<p>

"The Doctor knows all about us," Quadaff snarled. "He will of course know a way to counter that."

Dross went over to the counter and picked up a little microscope. "There is really no need for all that," the Cyberman said. "It's working perfectly now."

"I want to get to the bottom of it," Dross said shaking his head and carefully examined the indentation in the Cyberman's arm.

"Was the conversion successful?" Quadaff asked after a moment of silence.

"Sort of," Dross muttered. "Kayvon suffered no ill-effects physically but it seems the mind struggled to comprehend what had happened to him."

"So you destroyed his mind," Quadaff said. "That's just great!"

"Not completely," Dross said defensively. "I think given enough time he will cease in his desire to commit suicide."

"And until then?"

"I have frozen him in the vaults," Dross responded. "Once I find a way to keep the mind under control I can unfreeze him. Ah there we are!" he ceased his analysis of the Cyberman's arm. "There are flakes of gold in your system, clogging it up. They haven't been corroded because gold is non-corrodible. That knife the Doctor used must have been made of gold!"

"Very fascinating," Quadaff scorned. "But there are people who have arrived here expecting the conversion, only we no longer have one."

"We still have a conversion," Dross argued.

"One that causes the patient to lose his mind," Quadaff pointed out. "How so you plan to solve that problem so quickly."

Dross smiled triumphantly and went over to a cabinet in the wall. He reached inside and pulled out Lisa's ring. "Tango Scabbers found it in the broker's den earlier," he explained. "The jewel is a psychic crystal. I can use that to simulate a form of mind control over the next patient."

Quadaff seemed happy with this response. "Very well, I shall bring up the next person to be converted for you." He pointed to the Cyberman. "You get back out there, and find the Doctor."

* * *

><p>"The Doctor and I travel the universe through time and space, fighting monsters and aliens that mean it harm. Somewhere along the line the Doctor has pissed someone off so badly that they have sent Sundew after us," Lisa explained.<p>

"Doesn't sound particularly terrifying," Broxa commented.

"Well the universal police force is known as the Shadow Proclamation so names don't necessarily mean anything," the Doctor commented. "Sundew is a guild of Assassins that doesn't look too kindly on failure, we were trying to confront them over my contract when we landed here by accident."

"Well now that they are here, you can talk to them now can't you?" Broxa suggested.

"I could but they won't know anything," he replied. "The only one who would know who the client is would be the Master of the guild, or one of the Superiors but it is unlikely that one of them would be here personally."

They turned a corner and were met with the sight of several Cybermen advancing towards them. They dived down another corridor but found that that was also blocked by advancing Cybermen. Each corridor they turned to yielded the same result, even back the way they had come. They were cornered. They huddled up against a wall as the Cybermen advanced, the Doctor brandished his knife but knew that it would be no use against all of them.

Realising the futility of the situation, the Doctor began to sing. "And now, the end is here. And so I face the final curtain." the Cybermen were slightly perplexed by this but carried on regardless. He gripped the hands of his companions as he stared them down, he just hoped that this would work.

"I've lived a life that's full.  
>I travelled each and ev'ry highway.<br>And more, much more than this,  
>I did it my way!"<p>

The Cybermen had their guns poised, ready to kill him, when something completely unexpected happened. Golden energy violently sprayed from the Doctor's mouth sending them all flying backwards. The Doctor stared at his handiwork. "Thank the stars that worked, even if that was an appropriate song to die to I would have much preferred something like..."

"Come on!" Lisa shouted, violently pulling him away from his musings.

The Cybermen slowly began to rise, slightly dazed and slightly burnt but otherwise unharmed. They broke into a sprint but quickly spied other Cybermen heading in the other direction. Despite their miraculous escape from the other Cybermen it looked like they were only going to get caught once more.

"In here quickly!" all eyes turned, and there stood Olljo holding a door open for them. There wasn't time to question why he was here when Kayvon had asked him to stay in the cave, they just poured down the little corridor and into the room allowing Olljo to slam the door behind them. They peered through the gap and noticed the Cybermen stride past completely ignoring the door, as they couldn't have possibly opened it to get inside.

"What are you doing here Olljo?" the Doctor asked, once they had got their breath back.

"Eemon has bought the opportunity to be converted using the funds I have been storing for him," Olljo explained.

"So even after out little chat he has decided to come here to take up the conversion anyway," the Doctor said in confusion.

"Kayvon wanted to do so as well," Olljo reminded him. "And Eemon is a coward, he doesn't care about what would happen to him."

"Well it is a good thing you arrived when you did, we would have been done for otherwise."

Broxa had been eyeing him suspiciously from the moment they had entered the room. She suddenly threw him up against the wall and grabbed his throat with one hand. Lisa yelped in shock but was ignored. "You are not Olljo," Broxa snarled.

"What?" Olljo shrieked in shock. "Of course I am."

"No you aren't," she snarled. "Your an imposter. Who are you?"

The Doctor eyed him curiously. "What makes you so sure Broxa?"

"He smells wrong," Broxa answered. "Olljo smelt of sweat and mud and the tang of metals from jewellery and money. This man smells salty and wet yet slowly drying."

Olljo started laughing. It wasn't a cruel chuckle, it was one of genuine amusement. "You are very good, cannibal, being able to uncover me with the one sense that we cannot fool perfectly. Sundew would be very pleased to recruit you. I would in fact probably petition to be your superior, I imagine you could kill me with your bare hands in a heartbeat just like how you bit this poor man's finger off."

"Don't let him go Broxa," the Doctor said. "But don't kill him either, I would very much like to interrogate him."

"Only so long as I can ask you some questions myself," the imposter agreed. "I am very interested to know why it was Alkrad decided to defect."

The Doctor looked to Lisa and was unsurprised by the look of regret that suddenly covered her features.

* * *

><p>"How are you holding Eemon?" Dross asked.<p>

Eemon was strapped to the bench like Kayvon had been, his arms and legs had been converted. "I'm fine," he replied. "Will it take much longer?"

"All in good time," Dross nodded as he went over to the cabinet. "I should tell you that Kayvon's conversion wasn't completely successful. I underestimated how the mind would react to such an extreme process, even with the sedative."

"But you have fixed that right?" Eemon asked frantically.

"Of course," Dross turned back round holding Lisa's ring. "All we need is something to gently reassure the mind of happy things."

"No not that!" Eemon's eyes widened in terror. "I have seen what that can do to people's minds."

"Do not worry," Dross dismissed. "I have altered it for our needs. And you won't have it forever, just until your mind calms down from the shock."

Suddenly Eemon began to realise why the Doctor had been so against Kayvon's decision to take the conversion. He watched helplessly as Dross began the final process of the conversion.

* * *

><p>Fake Olljo screwed up his face in confusion. "He defected because he fell in love with her?" he repeated incredulously.<p>

"Yes, I have a lot of respect for that lad," the Doctor replied. "I have not seen anyone before who could take down a squad of Judoon with such efficiency. And a Time Lord too, I didn't know there was anyone left with that knowledge."

"He killed a Time Lord?" Fake Olljo said in confusion. "I thought you were the last."

"No it turns out the Informant was one too," the Doctor said bitterly. "Cruel irony to discover that you are not alone only for that feeling to be literally killed almost straight away. But it was Alkrad's heart that I am impressed with. His ability to feel guilt over what he had done."

"Shame," the fake said. "They were both very useful to us."

"And now for my questions," the Doctor said. "I can tell that you are a shape shifter, and a very good one at that I was completely fooled, which narrows it down considerably. Broxa's sense of smell suggests that you are possibly amphibious, certainly grew up near water. You could well be a Rutan but as Broxa hasn't been electrocuted yet that seems unlikely; and I doubt that any Rutans would ever end up as assassins. To know for sure I only need to ask one question. Is Olljo still alive?"

"He is," the imposter nodded. "Only just though. The one you call Eemon stabbed him just before I got to him."

Broxa growled in anger. "I'll kill him," she growled.

"You won't have to," the Doctor reassured her. To fake Olljo he said: "You require the broker alive in order to sustain your impersonation of him, if he were to die you would lose the ability to turn into him after about, let's say, two hours which is why you are keeping him alive. You are a Zygon," he declared.

"Superior Petris," the disguised Zygon confirmed.

"Superior?" Lisa piped in with interest. "Does that mean that you know who it is that has put the contract on the Doctor's head?"

"I am sorry to disappoint you," Petris smirked. "But only Master Quanchi knows that."

The Doctor gave Lisa a shrug. "Well it was never going to be that easy was it?"

"How do we get Olljo back," Broxa asked.

"As it stands he is safer on Petris' ship," the Doctor responded.

"But what are you going to do with me?" Petris taunted. It was clear that none, not even Broxa, was sure of what they were going to do with him.

* * *

><p>Dross came to the end of his operation and admired his handiwork. Eemon was exactly like Kayvon except he had Lisa's ring embedded in his chest, the crystal pointing outwards. It glowed intermittently, then suddenly shined brightly continuously. Eemon began to shake violently and let off an horrific scream. The shaking grew so violent that Dross found himself stepping back out of fear. Eemon suddenly stopped shaking and stood up slowly, easily breaking free of the straps. He looked over his new body with interest.<p>

Dross cautiously advanced. "Eemon, are you alright?" he asked.

Eemon brought his arms down and began to laugh, quietly at first but soon turned into manic cackling. "I am alive!" the Cyberman shouted in a voice that certainly was not Eemon's.

"Yes you are Eemon," Dross enthused. "How is your mind? Did the crystal work?"

"My mind is perfect," Eemon said turning to face his creator. "I must thank you for bringing me back."

"Back?" Dross repeated in confusion. "What do you mean back? What is going on Eemon?"

The Cyberman leaned forwards in an intimidating manner. "Eemon's not here anymore."

"What? Well who are you then?"

"My name," the Cyberman said, "is Harry!"

* * *

><p><strong>Authors note: quite predictable I know, but I hope it was still as effective.<strong>


	17. Nemesis 8

Chapter 8

"I cannot do it!" Dross shouted in defiance. "Not without the ring."

"You will not need the ring," Harry assured him. "I shall channel its energy into each one. All you need to do is complete the conversion on each person like normal."

Dross looked around nervously. "I would have to get clearance," he argued.

"Then I give you clearance," Harry responded. "You shall build me my army, and we shall conquer the universe."

"No that's not what this is about."

"Isn't it?" Harry turned on him threateningly.

"No, all we want is to survive," Dross pleaded.

"And when the planet is converted, what will you do then?" Harry questioned. Dross didn't have an answer for that. "Bring up the next subjects."

Dross nodded and turned towards the communicator. Before he could get there the door slid open and General Quadaff strode in. He was flanked by two Cybermen, which gave Dross a glimmer of hope. Quadaff eyed Harry suspiciously.

"Has it been successful this time?" he grilled.

"I wouldn't say so," Dross said as calmly as he could manage.

"Nonsense," Harry contradicted. "I feel better than I have done in years."

Quadaff grinned in relief. "At last," he said. "How soon can you convert me? Or do you want to do another couple of tests?"

"You are willing to wait?" Dross raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Well now that you have had a success I know that I can take it at any time," Quadaff explained. "I want to make sure you are completely happy with the process."

"That will not be necessary," Harry cut in.

"Oh," Quadaff turned to Harry with his old arrogance. "And why not?"

"You are a leader, correct?"

"Not that that has anything to do with you," Quadaff answered. "Bit headstrong isn't he Dross." He was surprised to see that Dross seemed be very nervous.

"I will not need another leader," Harry said. Quadaff regarded him with confusion and looked to Dross for an answer.

"I have made a terrible mistake," Dross said simply.

Quadaff finally realised. "Kill him," he shouted. The two Cybermen brandished their pistols and fired one shot each into Harry's chest. The energy of the shots was redirected towards the crystal in his chest and absorbed.

"Bad mistake old man," Harry said coldly.

"I'm not old," he responded with a lot less conviction than he had earlier.

"You are on this planet," Harry mocked. He brought his arms up and they began to glow with green energy, not the same as the Cyberman's weaponry, this was a deeper shade. It was a similar colour to the crystal in his chest that was glowing brightly as this happened. He swiftly unleashed two bursts of energy from his hands which each hit a Cyberman squarely in the chest. They both collapsed to the floor dead. Harry now advanced on the General, conjuring more energy into his hands.

Before he could strike Dross had appeared in his way. He paused not willing to kill the only means he had of expanding his army. Quadaff used this opportunity to escape. "I won't let you kill him," Dross said defiantly. "I promised him I would save him."

"I could kill you now," Harry threatened. "So easily."

"But you won't," Dross countered. "You need me."

Harry lowered his arms in an admission that Dross was right. "You will build my army for me," he ordered.

"Of course," Dross agreed. "Only if they send the next patients up to me though." He grinned mischievously. "You have just created a hostage situation, with a hostage you dare not kill."

Harry was silent for a moment as if processing this information. "Then you shall stay here," he declared. "I will bring the men up here."

Harry turned and stormed out of the room. Once he was outside he smashed the control panel to prevent anyone from being able to enter.

* * *

><p>The Doctor turned away from their prisoner and put his fingers on his temples. This wasn't an action that went unnoticed, Lisa was immediately at his side and Broxa took her eyes off Petris for the first time.<p>

"I sense a disturbance in the force," he said ominously. Then cracked into a smile. "Oh yeah, wanted to say that for ages!"

Lisa was less impressed. "What is happening? What do you sense?" she asked.

"Pain, suffering, death I fear."

"Stop quoting Star Wars! What is going on?" she shouted.

"There is something happening here," the Doctor said seriously. "Something evil."

"Where would we be without Time Lord intuition," Petris said sarcastically. "Who would have thought that this was the birthplace of the Cybermen without him."

"That's not what I meant," the Doctor sniffed. "There is something else. Something truly evil. Even more evil than the Cybermen."

"More evil than the Cybermen?" Petris raised his eyebrows in scepticism. "Who could possibly be worse than the Cybermen?"

"You, for a start," Broxa responded.

Petris regarded her with distaste then raised his eyebrows in a realisation. "It's not Master Quanchi is it?"

"I don't know who it is," the Doctor said in frustration. "I'm going to have to go and find out."

"What about the Cybermen?" Lisa asked in shock.

The Doctor pulled out his penknife and flicked open the main blade. "I'll have to tread carefully," he grinned. Before anyone else could protest he was out the door.

Lisa flapped her arms in exasperation while Broxa looked around helplessly. Petris seized his opportunity, he punched Broxa in the chest sending her flying across the room. Lisa turned back in time to see Petris rise to his feet and slowly morph back into his true form. He pointed his augmented hand at Lisa.

"It would be wise not to do anything foolish now," he sneered. "There is no contract on either of your heads but that doesn't mean I won't hesitate to kill you if I have to."

"Don't," Lisa warned Broxa, who was about to leap at him. "He has stings on his hand that will kill if he touches you."

"Could have warned me of that earlier," Broxa replied in anger. "I was stood over him all this time."

"He can only do it in his true form, you weren't in any danger," Lisa explained. "So now what?"

"I'm going after the Doctor," the Zygon explained. "If he gets killed by one of the Cybermen I will not get any money for it. And I am curious as to what this great evil he has sensed is."

He slowly made his way to the door, the two girls being careful to keep their distance. He cautiously exited and closed the door behind him leaving them alone in the room.

* * *

><p>Harry strode purposefully down the corridor. Using the memories he had stolen he was able to locate where the rest of the footpads were very quickly. He threw the door open and leered at the men inside, they all jumped back out of horror.<p>

"The doctor is ready to see you now," he said. "Who's next?"

Nobody moved. One looked at him in horror. "Eemon is that you?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. "I have been upgraded, and now you shall all be upgraded."

They all looked at one another, eventually one of them stood up and spoke. "I think I speak for everyone when I say this, but we aren't sure we should follow through with the operation. I mean look at you, there is not a drop of Mondasian left on you, your just a machine."

"This is what you all signed up for," Harry said angrily. "You can't back out now!"

"It's not quite how you described it," the footpad argued. "You don't even sound like the Eemon we all knew anymore. You told us it was all about prolonging our lives, and if this is the way to do so I think I would rather go extinct."

"You will all take the upgrade," Harry snarled. "Or you will die!" he held out a hand and let the green energy slowly form. "The choice is yours, existence or destruction?"

He was distracted when he was hit by the green energy of a Cyberman's pistol. He turned his head to see two Cybermen marching towards him. He took a few more shots before hurling the his own green energy, killing both of them. The attack didn't end there. A few others leaned out from where they had been cowering and fired their own pistols. The ferocity of the attack was so much that Harry found himself taking a step backwards and putting his arm instinctively over his face.

Gern and Krail appeared shouting encouragement for their more advanced brethren and fired their own bulky lantern like weapons at the target. Harry turned and fled, unable to handle the high volume of energy coming his way.

"After him!" Krail ordered. The Cybermen came out of their hiding places and rushed after. They turned the corner he had turned and were promptly blasted back by Harry's sinister green energy. The ones that hadn't made it that far, so had avoided this were called back. "Defend the footpads, we can't have any more like him running about."

Harry ran down the corridors making sure that he wasn't being followed. He then paused and regarded the figure that was stood at one of the cross-roads.

"Well that explains why they aren't so interested in me anymore," the Doctor said casually.

"I knew I would run into you," Harry said coldly. "As you can see, you failed. The ascension was a success."

"Not really," the Doctor responded, "you died. Now you are walking about in a body that doesn't belong to you because of your lingering consciousness in that old ring of yours. You aren't really the true consciousness of Harry, you are merely the manipulative shadow that would pollute the wearers mind."

"Call me what you will, I am Harry and I have returned," Harry declared. "With the powers granted by the ascension." To demonstrate the point he conjured a ball of energy and hurled it at the wall leaving a scorch mark.

"Yes very impressive," the Doctor clapped. "You managed to hide all that power in that ring, right under my nose."

"And now I shall take my revenge," Harry snarled turning on him.

"Whatever for?" the Doctor asked without batting an eyelid. "I'm the one who brought the ring here, so technically gave you life again."

"Because you killed me," Harry snarled leaning over him. "And you are going to try to stop me."

The Doctor nodded in agreement. "12 out of 10," he said and ducked under the outstretched, slashing at it with the penknife that suddenly appeared in his hand as he went past.

They faced off on opposite sides of the crossroads, the Doctor brandishing the gold penknife and Harry inspecting the damage on his arm. After deciding that was only minor Harry turned back to the Doctor and conjured up a ball of energy. He gave a roar and hurled it at the Doctor.

"Expelliarmus!" the Doctor shouted. He opened his mouth and expelled a large dose of bio-energy that completely negated Harry's energy. "Blimey it worked," the Doctor murmured in surprise.

"And you lectured me about taking up the power of..."

"This is a perfectly natural Time Lord phenomenon," the Doctor interrupted. "It's a result of my regeneration taking too long to complete itself."

"Never mind, I do not need that power to destroy you," Harry spat, or he would have done if he had anything to spit.

"Yes it seems that this contest will not be decided by our knowledge of the force, but by our skills with a lightsaber," the Doctor twirled the knife in his hand and pointed it threateningly at Harry.

Harry gave a feral roar and charged. The Doctor ducked under the blow and slashed at the other arm. The battle resumed with Harry attempting to bludgeon the Doctor, whilst the Doctor cleverly dodged and slashed with his knife. He never caused much damage, he was more focused on trying to get at the ring on his chest. That would bring an end to Harry's rebirth. But as it was he couldn't get close enough without Leaving himself vulnerable to Harry's incredibly strong cybernetic arms.

The Doctor suddenly froze in pain, as an aftershock hit him once more. Harry grasped him and began to painfully squeeze at his neck. The Doctor wriggled about and managed to lightly touch the crystal of the ring with the tip of his knife. Harry gave a scream and threw him aside with as much force as he could muster. Before the Doctor could recover himself he was brutally kicked, and then thrown down the corridor once more. As the Doctor painfully pulled himself to his feet he noticed the familiar sight of Olljo (though not really Olljo) heading down the other corridor towards Harry.

"That can't be good," he muttered.

"He's mine," Petris shouted, slowly morphing back into his true Zygon form. "I will get nothing if you kill him instead."

"Stay out of this creature," Harry snarled. "This is between me and the Doctor."

Petris ignored this outburst and fired a volley of stingers at the Doctor. He dived to the side and only felt one brushing the side of his jacket. Harry turned to the Zygon and punched him aside before turning back to the Doctor. Petris quickly recovered and retaliated by firing another volley of stingers at Harry. The Doctor used the distraction to escape.

* * *

><p>Lisa and Broxa were both relieved when the Doctor burst back into the room they were hiding in. "The Zygon went after you," Lisa explained.<p>

"Yes I know," the Doctor nodded. "Good thing too, I might be dead otherwise. Quite ironic that in trying to kill me he would end up saving me. Easy mistake to make, many people have done that over the years. There are even those who seem hold back from attacking straight away for no reason other than to taunt me and thus allowing me to turn the tables on them. The emperor himself should have died when confronted by four Jedi but none of them attacked until he had already killed two of them, in attacks that should have been easily parried, and then the third one also failed to take advantage of the gap in his defence when he was concentrating on Mace Windu. No wonder he was able to drag the galaxy into darkness so successfully if the Jedi were just rolling over and allowing him to kill them."

"Doctor, that was a film," Lisa pointed out.

"What happened?" Broxa asked before an argument could break out.

"Well a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away there was this collection of planets ruled by a republic that was protected by the Jedi, warriors of an ancient cult that were in touch with this power known as the force. A crippling war soon engulfed the republic and the Jedi became so distracted in ensuring that the republic came out victorious that they never realised that their arch enemy the Sith Lord Darth Sidious had become the Chancellor. Once the war was all but won, Sidious tricked the Jedi into attempting to assassinate him and used this as an excuse to turn the republic against them. After all but destroying the Jedi he transformed the Republic into the Galactic Empire."

"No not the film!" Broxa exclaimed, slightly annoyed herself now. "What happened out there?"

"My worst fears have been realised," the Doctor said gravely. "Harry has returned."

Lisa's eyes widened with shock. "How is that possible?" She breathed.

"lingering consciousness in the ring has taken possession of Eemon's newly converted body," the Doctor answered. "He has awakened with those powers he stole and a determination to kill me and possibly convert the galaxy as well, now that he is a Cyberman."

"Right," Lisa looked down trying to come to terms with this new information. The Doctor pitied her greatly.

"You stopped him before," Broxa said. "You can stop him again can't you."

"Correct, just take me to the nearest nuclear power station and I can make the appropriate preparations," the Doctor said with conviction. Broxa remained silent. "Haven't got one of those have we. May not have worked anyway, he is stronger than before."

"So we're doomed then," Broxa summed up.

"For the moment, yes," the Doctor nodded. "The Cybermen seem to want rid of him as much as us but their weapons are mostly useless, he is merely draining the energy of the attacks. The main tactic should be to remove the ring, but that will be much easier said than done."

"I may have an idea," Lisa murmured. Both Broxa and the Doctor turned to her in surprise. "Do you remember that Verron Soothsayer?"

"The one that told me that I was going to die?" the Doctor clarified. "Which is strange, normally their predictions are more cryptic and involve the presentation of a gift that seems useless until the time that you need it."

"He spoke to me too if you remember," Lisa nodded. Using one hand she held her right eyelid open whilst gently pressing the index finger of her other hand against the pupil. When she brought it away it took with it a contact lens. "He told me to wear it until the time for revenge was upon us."

"Revenge?"The Doctor questioned, taking the tiny lens from Lisa's finger.

"That's what he said," she shrugged. "It doesn't necessarily have to be ours does it? It could be referring to Harry's revenge on you."

"Maybe," the Doctor agreed, though he wasn't really listening. He was examining the lens very closely. "A Rho Epsilon Degenerator," he breathed. "Haven't seen one for centuries."

"What is it?" Lisa asked. "I mean what does it do?" She corrected before the Doctor could repeat what it was.

"An energy drainer basically," the Doctor explained. "I won't bore you with the details. No actually I will. Epsilon particles in two touching bodies allow a rho radiation flow from the degenerator. The radiation latches onto the epsilon particles and causes them to break down. This is often used to disable potentially lethal devices, this one seems to have been altered to work on organic life forms."

"Epsilon particles? rho radiation? Your making it all up aren't you," Lisa said sceptically.

"No I'm serious, have you ever had a computer or TV that has one day failed for no reason?" Lisa nodded slowly. "The mechanic will have told you it was a failure in one of the systems, but it was actually a result of the epsilon particles dying."

"So there are particles floating around that act as a sort of life force," Lisa summarised. "And without them everything, including machines, would be dead."

The Doctor looked at her and burst out laughing. "Gotcha!" He declared.

"You were making it up!" She said furiously.

"Course I was," The Doctor replied. "Epsilon particles, can't believe you fell for that, as if there would be a particle that keeps you alive."

"Alright so how does it work then?" Lisa asked through gritted teeth.

"I have no idea," the Doctor giggled. "Didn't the soothsayer give you instructions."

"Once active it will affect both the victim and the user," Lisa shrugged.

"Is it possible that both individuals are bombarded by rho and epsilon radiation stored in it?" Broxa suggested. "Hence a Rho Epsilon Degenerator."

"That is possible," the Doctor said. "Although that is not its real name, I made it up."

"It will be something that causes him harm certainly," Lisa said

"12 out of 10," the Doctor said happily. Then his face fell. "Ah, I think I know what it will do."

"So you have a plan," she said hopefully.

"I think I have one," the Doctor nodded. "But we will have to join up with the Cybermen. I will need a white flag of some kind." He looked around in search of anything white.

Broxa clicked her fingers and removed her jacket to reveal a white top underneath. Then Lisa and the Doctor's eyes widened in shock as she promptly stripped it off to hand it to him.

"A bit dirty, but yes it is white," the Doctor managed. "Do you have no modesty at all?"

"What do you mean?" she asked in confusion as she zipped the jacket over her chest.

"You weren't even wearing a bra," Lisa exclaimed.

"What's a bra?" was Broxa's only response.

"Never mind," the Doctor said decisively. "Come we need to meet up with the Cybermen."

* * *

><p>The Cybermen slowly parted as the Doctor purposely marched through them, holding the t-shirt like a trophy. He paused when he came to Krail. "Bring the General here, we have much to discuss," the Doctor ordered.<p>

"We are under orders to kill you," Krail responded, but made no move to follow through with this.

"Hence none of you are attacking," the Doctor commented. "This is a white flag!" he declared. "I have come here to negotiate a peaceful settlement. And if you won't agree with that I shall invoke the right of parlay, meaning you have to take me to your leader, there I go again, or bring him here before you kill me."

Krail finally gave in and signalled to one of his underlings, who went off to summon General Quadaff. After a few minutes Quadaff could be seen stomping down the corridor towards them.

"This had better be good," he growled.

"I can assure you that my offer is one that will be hard to refuse," the Doctor said eloquently.

"Try me," Quadaff sneered.

"I gather you are having problems with a rogue Cyberman," the Doctor continued.

"A cyber what?"

"Oh you don't call yourself that yet do you," the Doctor realised. "Eemon has gone out of control and is trying to kill you all," he clarified.

"Your doing no doubt," Quadaff said.

"No actually, he hates us even more than you I can assure you," the Doctor corrected. "I was thinking that we could join forces to deal with him."

"You know how we can defeat him?" Quadaff raised his eyebrows in scepticism.

"I have a plan," the Doctor nodded. "But I cannot do it without your help. If we succeed I will leave and never return, if not it is likely I will die. Either way you win, what do you say?"

Quadaff thought about this for a moment. "Ok, it's a deal," he held out his hand which the Doctor shook gratefully.


	18. Nemesis 9: Death

**Author's note: hi again, penultimate chapter of this part I thought that things were going down hill in the previous couple so thanks to those of you that assured me that they were good (both of you). I feel we are ending this arc on a high, but I'll let you e the judge of that. Once again I am looking forward to any feedback.**

* * *

><p><span>Death of a Nemesis<span>

The Doctor stood alone in a control room. He pressed several buttons, each one making a completely different noise. He stared at them thoughtfully once he had completed what he had been trying to do, pressing a few random buttons experimentally. Temptation got the better of him and he began pressing buttons, using the sounds to create the music of a song. He completed the introduction with energy, briefly forgetting the great peril they were all in.

"I won't stand in your way,  
>Let your hatred grow,<br>And she'll scream  
>And she'll shout<br>And she'll pray,  
>And she had a name,<br>Yeah she had a name.

And I won't hold you back,  
>Let your anger rise,<br>And we'll fly  
>And we'll fall<br>And we'll burn,  
>And no one will recall,<br>No one will recall!"

He sang with great energy, playing the control panel as if it were a piano. The tune changed to sound like a guitar rift as he built up to the chorus.

"This, is, the last time I'll, abandon you!  
>And this is, the last time I'll, forget you!"<p>

"I'm not sure you should be doing that." The Doctor immediately came to a stop and turned his head to see who had entered. It was Lisa, she always seemed to stop him when he was really enjoying himself.

"Can I at least do the guitar solo," he pleaded. "I won't get the chance otherwise."

"Aren't you concerned about the damage pressing all those buttons will do?" Lisa asked.

"Doors opening and closing in time to the rhythm is hardly going to cause that much damage to their infrastructure," the Doctor dismissed.

"What about the engines of the ship turning on and off, or people in the vaults unfreezing and refreezing?" Lisa cocked an eyebrow.

He scowled slightly at her ability to raise one eyebrow when he couldn't before nodding. "Ok, I'll stop. Is everything ready?"

She nodded. "But that's not why I came down here," she added.

"Oh?" the Doctor raised both eyebrows in surprise. "What can I do for you? If this is about Broxa you needn't worry, you have been around a lot longer than she has and it will take a lot for anyone to replace you. Never thought I would be saying that again."

"It isn't about her," Lisa interrupted. "I wouldn't mind in the slightest if you decided to take her with us at the end of all this."

"You think she should come with us? Well that's a load off my mind," the Doctor sighed with relief. "I would have felt very mean if we didn't give her a brighter future after everything she has done to help us."

"It's about you," she forced out.

"Me?"

"I'm concerned," she said. "You said that the Rho Epsilon Degenerator, I know it's not really called that but for the sake of ease..."

"It's a bit of a mouthful actually," the Doctor interrupted. "The Death Lens would be much better, and it sounds cooler too."

"Stop trying to change the subject!" Lisa shouted. "You said that it will affect both the victim and the user and then you went all solemn. You hadn't been that solemn since the Informant died."

The Doctor understood where she was going and nodded. "It is unlikely that we will be able to attach the lens to Harry without him being able to knock it off somehow," he explained. "Someone will either have to hold it on him or hold him down, meaning that they will also be killed by the effects. The plan is to attach it to the small of the back, you know the area that you can never reach. Failing that someone is going to have to hold it to him, that shouldn't prove too difficult as he will grow weaker the longer it is held against him, hopefully one of the Cybermen will do that; not Krail or Gern they need to be alive for the first invasion of Earth. Perhaps this is why I have never seen any pistol wielding Cybermen before, they all die stopping Harry."

"But knowing you," Lisa pointed out, "you will do that yourself. How will I be able to get myself home and give Broxa a new home if you will be dead."

"Regeneration will save me... I think."

"Not filling me with much confidence," Lisa said tetchily. "If you are still half way through one regeneration I don't see you regenerating again in a hurry."

"I was thinking more about my current one," the Doctor clarified. "Melody III was able to repel a barrage of bullets using regenerative energy, Corsair was able to wander through a nuclear fallout area after he had regenerated, although that may have been because he was now a woman. I myself have grown back a hand, been shot in the head, half frozen and then had a tiny camera that had been left inside my body ripped out, force fed an array of perfectly good food before settling for a breakfast of fish fingers with custard – what was I thinking, sprouts and ice cream would have been much nicer – repel the blast from a Pilot Fish rifle, burn holes in walls and trousers, repel potentially fatal trident attacks, get beaten half to death and almost eaten several times all during or very close after the end of a regeneration. I even tried to shave my moustache and beard the other day, but it just grew back. It will probably save me from this as well."

"But what if it doesn't?" Lisa said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Lisa, travelling with you has been brilliant," he said sincerely. "I've. Had the time of my life."

"No singing! Not now!"

"Sorry, things can't go on forever; not even the last of the Time Lords. When you re-enter the TARDIS it will know and take you back home before dying in peace." His expression suddenly changed to its normal, cheerful playfulness. "But that isn't going to happen, I will see you on the other side." He tapped her affectionately on the cheeks before dancing out of the room to join the Cybermen for battle.

* * *

><p>There was a loud bang and the door to the main theatre slid open. The Doctor strolled inside looking rather pleased with himself. Dross turned to him in surprise.<p>

"You!" he exclaimed.

"12 out of 10," the Doctor smiled.

"Come to destroy my work?" Dross said fearfully.

"On the contrary my good Doctor, I am here to save your work," the Doctor corrected. "As much as that pains me."

"Save it? But Quadaff said..."

"You really shouldn't believe every word that the soldiers tell you," the Doctor chided. "I may hate what you are going to create, but I am wise enough to know that it would cause too much damage in the time vortex for me to do anything now. It would make me even worse than you will ever become."

"So what are you doing here then?" Dross asked in confusion.

"I gather you are having problems with one of your patients," the Doctor answered. "A certain Eemon who now calls himself Harry."

"I don't know about that," Dross shrugged. "I have managed to make one stable and he has promised to help keep the others stable."

"I am from the future," the Doctor scolded. "I know that you will eventually succeed, but you won't do it like this. Harry will force your race into war with the rest of the universe in a strive for dominion over everything, something that I am sure you do not want. He is the worst psychopath I have had the misfortune to encounter since Davros, who will no doubt turn up again at some point to reaffirm that status in my mind."

"But what can we do?" Dross exclaimed. "Our weapons have no effect on him."

"That's not strictly true, but I understand where you are coming from. Fortunately for you I am here, and I have a plan." He quickly outlined the details of what was going on at that moment in time.

"And Quadaff agreed to this did he?" Dross asked in surprise once the Doctor had completed his explanation.

"He wanted this dealt with too badly to worry about what some untrustworthy Assassin from the future had said," the Doctor shrugged. "The important question is: are you going to play your part?"

"Yes," Dross nodded.

* * *

><p>They didn't have to wait long. Harry came bowling into room dragging a man after him, blasts of energy echoing down the corridor. He stomped over to the desk and forced the pleading man onto it.<p>

"Upgrade him!" Harry ordered.

"Look it isn't an upgrade," Dross pleaded. "And he doesn't want it, look at him."

"Why you getting so high and mighty about it now?" Harry roared. "You always intended to upgrade everyone."

"Stop calling it that, I wanted to offer it to everyone. I don't want to force anyone into anything."

Whilst Dross kept Harry distracted with the pre-arranged argument the Doctor snuck up behind him and prepared to place the death lens onto Harry's back. He just had it touching the metal of his back when a sudden spasm of pain rocked through his body. _Not now!_ He screamed inside his head, jumping backwards and gritting his teeth to avoid making any noise that would give him away. Miraculously he managed to avoid doing anything loud enough to alert Harry's attention. Unfortunately Dross's horrified looks of concern did.

Harry whipped round to follow the man's gaze and came face to face with the Doctor. "Well, well," he sneered. "Come for round two have you Doctor? I can assure you that the Zygon will not be coming in to rescue you this time."

"No," the Doctor agreed. "The Cybermen will save me this time."

"Who are the Cybermen?" Dross asked in confusion.

"You are," the Doctor informed him. "Well not yet, that's what you will become."

Dross tested the word on his tongue. "That is not a bad idea," he said to himself. "Yes, I could also call Tango Scabbers a Cyber-rat to continue that theme."

"Cybermat!" the Doctor corrected. "Why does everyone insist on giving them completely the wrong name?"

Before anyone could give him an answer Harry lunged at him, punching him to the ground. Dross was snapped out of his ponderings and rushed over to grab him from behind before he could stamp on the Doctor. Harry was mildly irritated by this move and swiftly threw him off him. He was even more annoyed when the man on the bench also leaped up to grapple with him. As he fought him off, the Doctor regained his footing and pulled out both his penknife and the death lens.

He charged forwards, slashing with the knife to draw Harry away from the real threat. Harry blocked the slash from the blade but was unprepared for the Doctor to slap the death lens onto the other metallic arm. The Doctor cried in pain as he felt bio-energy rush to the surface to combat the draining powers of the lens. He was too distracted by this to notice as Harry brought his other fist round to punch him in the face. He was knocked to the ground, the lens fell harmlessly with him. Dross quickly scooped it up and pressed it once more onto the madman's arm.

This time Harry roared in pain as the energy was sucked from him once more, but he was still able to knock Dross away. The lens rolled across the floor. The footpad dived for it. Harry realised this time that it was the lens that was the most dangerous thing to him at that moment and mustered as much strength as he could to hurl an energy blast at the footpad to prevent him from getting to it too. The footpad was hit in the chest and flew into the wall, snapping his neck upon impact.

Dross looked over to the Doctor panting as bio-energy dance about on his face to hold back a bruise that was trying to form on his cheek. "When exactly is Quadaff going to rush in and save the day?" he asked.

"Any second now," the Doctor replied. After a few seconds he added. "He's late."

They both looked up as Harry gave off hysterical laughter. "Your friends have abandoned you," he mocked. "He is hoping that we will both die in this struggle, but only you will die Doctor."

"You don't sound very good," the Doctor observed, noting the weakness in Harry's voice.

"Your little device has been sapping my strength," Harry wheezed. "And yours too, otherwise you would already be back up by now."

The Doctor jumped to his feet. "Tada! See I'm not so weak from it," the Doctor countered. "Your days are numbered Harry!"

Harry turned from him and stomped down on lens. Once he removed his feet it was in pieces. "And how do you plan to do that without the lens?" Harry mocked.

"A minor setback," the Doctor said casually, whilst inwardly cursing. "That is not the only way to defeat you. It would have been the easiest certainly." He brandished the penknife once more. "But not the only way." He rushed forwards but was swiftly thrown backwards.

"I have recovered too," Harry taunted. "And now." Energy formed in his palm. "You will die."

Harry raised his fist and prepared to hurl the energy down on the Doctor. _It can't end like this,_ the Doctor thought, _surely not like this._

"Harry?" a soft voice from the entrance made them all stop. All eyes slowly turned.

"Lisa?" Harry said softly in surprise.

"Lisa what are you doing?" the Doctor asked, equally baffled.

Lisa ignored him. She just stared at Harry. "It is you isn't it?" she asked earnestly.

"Yes," Harry turned from the Doctor to face her. "It is me."

Lisa broke out into one of the widest grins the Doctor had seen in a long time. "I have found you at last," she said.

"What is she doing?" Dross murmured to the Doctor.

"If I knew that I wouldn't have asked her," the Doctor replied, he stared at the scene in confusion. Not that long ago she had claimed that she had finally gotten over him, yet here she was falling for him once more.

"I have missed you so much Harry," she said softly, advancing towards him. "We missed our wedding."

"We could have another one," Harry said. "Right here."

"Will it work this time?" Lisa paused and turned her head as tears filled her eyes. "No old man is going to come in and ruin it all again?"

"No," Harry said. "It will be perfect."

Lisa smiled with relief. "Hold me," she said holding her arms out. Harry took her into his embrace and they remained there for a moment.

"This is weird," Dross said.

"Shh, don't spoil the moment," the Doctor put his finger to his lips. He watched with interest as Lisa stroked the cybernetic face of her long lost love. _So Harry had loved her back,_ the Doctor thought, _well she was the only one who he had proposed a marriage to, and she did fall in love before being given the ring. It's a shame that he is a psychopath._

In Lisa's eyes she could not see Harry's true features, because she still had no glasses or anything to help correct her vision. She just imagined him as he was before. Back when he had simply been the man she had loved. The man she was going to marry. She clutched the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. And she kissed him like she had done before he turned bad. One of her eyes glinted and suddenly the Doctor understood.

"You see Harry," he said solemnly, rising to his feet. "Lenses normally come in pairs."

Harry pulled out of the kiss but Lisa clutched him around the waist to prevent him from running. He roared and thrashed about but somehow Lisa was holding him too tightly for him to escape. The lens in her eye glowed brightly as it drained both of their energies.

"Well done Lisa!" the Doctor shouted to get her attention. "I can remove the ring now! Let go once I have taken it."

"Don't touch him!" she shouted frantically. "It will get you too."

"But it will kill you!" the Doctor cried frantically.

"It's the only way I will ever be free of him," she said through ragged breath. "I should have done this last time, but I didn't and now you are paying for that. Let me do it please."

"It doesn't have to be this way," the Doctor pleaded.

Lisa turned and looked at him through teary eyes. "Your more important than I am," she said simply. The Doctor stared back unable to think up a response to that.

"You have betrayed me Lisa!" Harry roared. "You told me you loved me and used that against me."

"Just like you did to me," Lisa countered. Harry roared in anguish and renewed his efforts to get free but it was futile, he had grown too weak.

Lisa tilted her head towards the Doctor and stared at him sadly. The Doctor stared back sadly and opened his mouth. He was greatly shocked when Lisa beat him to it.

"There I was again tonight, forcing laughter, faking smiles  
>Same old tired, lonely place<br>walls of insincerity  
>Shifting eyes and vacancy vanished when I saw your face<br>All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you."

The Doctor opened and shut his mouth in surprise. "But you hate it when I sing." She just smiled and continued.

"Your eyes whispered 'have we met?'  
>cross the room your silhouette starts to make its way to me<br>The playful conversation starts  
>Counter all your quick remarks like passing notes in secrecy<br>And it was enchanting to meet you  
>All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you<p>

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go  
>I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home<br>I'll spend forever wondering if you knew  
>I was enchanted to meet you<p>

The lingering question kept me up  
>2am, who do you love?<br>I wonder till I'm wide awake  
>Now I'm pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door<br>I'd open up and you would say  
>It was enchanting to meet you<br>All I know is I was enchanted to meet you

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go  
>I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home<br>I'll spend forever wondering if you knew  
>This night is flawless, don't you let it go<br>I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone  
>I'll spend forever wondering if you knew<br>I was enchanted to meet you."

The Doctor watched, tears threatening to come to his eyes, as she sung with such a beautiful voice. She continued to sing but it was clear that her mind was on something else. They were completely glazed over.

* * *

><p><em>[flashback]<em>

Lisa was sat at a table in one of those restaurants that you normally only go to in your dreams. She was dressed in a glamorous red cocktail dress, her hair lightly curled and pinned behind her head. She gazed adoringly through her glasses at the handsome man sitting opposite her. He was dressed in a smart suit, his sand coloured hair neatly combed. He stared at her with his green eyes, clearly very nervous. They were talking animatedly about nothing specific, the man trying to bring the conversation onto a specific topic but never managing to build up enough courage to follow it to the conclusion.

"Champagne sir?" a waiter asked.

"We haven't ordered any champagne," the man replied slightly irritated. He eyed the man suspiciously, he was not wearing the normal attire for a waiter. He wore a brown jacket with a cream waistcoat covered in purple and pink swirls, and had a fedora hat.

"I am aware of that," the 'waiter' said. "But I understand that this is a special occasion. It's on the house if you want it."

"What special occasion?" the man asked frantically.

"Sorry have I come too early?"

"What is it Harry?" Lisa asked, concern etched on her face.

Harry looked back to her and took a few deep breaths before smiling. "Nothing, do you want some champagne?"

The 'waiter' poured two glasses of champagne and left the bottle in a bucket of ice. "I would do it now if I were you," he said before he disappeared.

Harry stared after the 'waiter' with shock as Lisa gave him a confused look. "You wanted to ask me something?" she said to draw his attention back to her.

Harry snapped his head back to her. "Oh, yes," he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a ring. A band of two intertwining strips of silver with a large green stone, possibly an emerald set in it. Lisa's eyes widened. "Lisa, will you marry me?"

Lisa leant across the table, not caring that she got her dinner smeared across the front of her dress, and kissed him passionately on the lips.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lisa saw the 'waiter' that had given them the champagne smile and turn to a table. A dark haired girl in clothes that wouldn't look out of place in the middle ages was eating hungrily, he said something to her before disappearing out the door.

_[end of Flashback]_

* * *

><p><em>[flashback]<em>

Lisa made her way back to her flat through the dark alleyway that she always used. Normally Harry would have gone with her but he was busy doing something tonight, so she was forced to go alone. She moved quite quickly, cautiously looking over her shoulders to catch anyone who would try and sneak up on her. Luck appeared to be on her side, no one had ever bothered her yet. But then her luck ran out.

"Bit late to be out on your own, darling," the man in front of her said.

She froze and tried to get her breathing under control. "Hello," she managed.

"Where are you off to on a night like this?" the man asked advancing.

"I'm just on my way back to my flat," she said, backing up ever so slowly. The man stalked round and eventually backed her up against the wall. She realised that he was trapping her and made a break for it, hoping to get lucky. She didn't. The man swiftly grabbed her and threw her up against the wall once more. She screamed but it was cut off when he clamped his hand over her mouth.

"Be silent," he growled. With his other hand he brought a flick knife to her neck. "Not a sound."

She remained frozen, paralysed with fear as he removed his hand from her mouth and gently traced the curvature of her breasts. He then moved to her legs, rubbing them softly as he raised his hand under her skirt.

BANG

He immediately pulled his hand away and turned to the sound of the noise. At the end of the alleyway stood a man, mostly obscured by the shadows of night. There were brief flashes as a pistol in his hand was fired into the sky twice more.

"Get out of it!" the man with the gun shouted. The thug looked back to Lisa briefly and then at his knife. There was another bang. "Next one goes in your head!"

Realising that his knife was not going to help him with this one he turned and fled. Lisa remained motionless with fear as her rescuer came up alongside her, pointing the pistol down alleyway.

"I think he has learnt his lesson," he said and stowed the pistol away inside a combat jacket. Only now That he was near could Lisa see that he was an old man. He turned to here and looked at her with eyes like deep abysses. "Are you all right dear?"

She nodded mutely. There was something strangely familiar about him, as if she had met him before. She certainly felt as if she could trust him straight away. "Thank you," she managed to say eventually.

"Humans fill me with disgust sometimes," he muttered. "Do you live nearby?"

"Just down there," she pointed nervously.

"Let me take you," he held out a hand to her. She gratefully took it and allowed him to lead her away. As they went he stared at something on her hand intently. "Where did you get that ring?" he asked.

"Harry gave it to me," she replied, a smile coming to her face as she thought about her fiancée.

"Harry?" the man exclaimed in shock.

"Yes," she nodded, missing the concern that had entered his voice. "We are going to get married."

The man went silent looking around agitated. He didn't say anything until they had arrived outside Lisa's flat. "Do you want to come in?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, I need to get home myself, lots to do. New developments to explore. I'll probably see around..."

"Lisa," she supplied. He nodded and turned to leave. "Wait! Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor called behind him as he disappeared into the shadows.

_[end of Flashback]_

* * *

><p><em>[flashback]<em>

"You won't succeed Harry," the Doctor shouted angrily. "And you won't escape this time either."

Harry laughed at him mockingly. "You are already too late. The ascension has begun."

Harry spread his arms wide and allowed a green light to engulf him. he thrashed about wildly as the energy coursed through him but smiled despite the pain. The Doctor walked forwards casually and pointed his pistol at a control panel. Lisa stepped in the way.

"Choice is yours Doctor," Harry mocked. "You can stop me but you would have to shoot her to do it, and you won't do that."

"Lisa you have seen what he has done, what he is planning to do," the Doctor pleaded. "Stand aside."

"She won't," Harry sang. "She will not do anything to betray me, she loves me."

Lisa stared at them both unable to move out of devotion.

"Lisa, you love Harry don't you?" she nodded. "You will do anything to save him." another nod. "Well that is not Harry, not the Harry you know anyway. He has taken advantage of your love to aid in his twisted vendetta. He will destroy, cause suffering to countless innocents. He has already done that, I have raced across the stars undoing the damage that he, Tom and Dick have unleashed. And you are not the first either. There are others that he has twisted with that ring of his. You have to make a choice quickly because if that machine doesn't get stopped soon, Harry will complete the ascension and he will be invincible, he will no longer need you."

She stared at him hopelessly, what he was saying made sense but she just couldn't bring herself to betray Harry. "I can't," she sobbed.

"Lisa, when I rescued you in that alleyway," the Doctor said softly, "Where was Harry?"

She looked around her and it suddenly dawned on her what he had been doing all those nights she had been forced to make her way home alone, including the night she had almost been raped. But she still couldn't bring herself to betray him. She looked down at her engagement ring, it was glowing softly. With great willpower she brought her other hand up and pulled the ring off.

"No what are you doing Lisa!" Harry shouted.

She threw the ring to the floor and ducked. The Doctor fired a single shot that smashed the console to pieces. Harry gave a scream as the energy changed to a violent red. The Doctor leant forwards and panted.

"Lisa," he wheezed. "We need to move everything up to maximum."

She nodded and sprinted around the room, twisting all the knobs so that the dials read maximum. She came to the last one when she was stopped by a shout from Harry.

"Don't!" he shouted. "It's killing me." he held up a hand to show how it was disintegrating.

She froze. Even without the ring and with the Doctor's revelations she couldn't kill him, regardless of what he had done she still loved him.

"Lisa," the Doctor came up behind her. "It is for the best."

"I can't kill him," she shouted back. "I don't care what he's done, I don't want to kill him."

"Run then," the Doctor said. "Run!"

Lisa did as she was told, sprinting back the way she had come. An explosion of one of the consoles sent her sprawling on the floor. As she looked up she saw the ring right next to her hand. She snatched it up and sprinted out the exit, not daring to look back and trying to block out the screams of her former fiancée.

She waited just outside, worrying about the Doctor. Eventually she saw him, making his way painfully slowly down the corridor. "Stay where you are," he shouted as explosions began to ricochet down the corridor.

Lisa watched in horror as a fireball in the background made its way towards the Doctor. She gasped when he paused to catch his breath and rushed in to help him. She supported some of his weight on her shoulders and forced him to run. They dived to the floor as they exited, avoiding the fireball as it too burst out.

The Doctor rolled onto his back and panted heavily. He looked down at his hands, examining his body for any major wounds. "I'm not dead," he said in surprise. "I'm still alive!"

"I wasn't going to leave you," Lisa said panting.

"That should have been it," the Doctor said gruffly. "I told you to stay back. Well nothing to be done about it now." He pulled himself onto his feet and started to stroll away, as was his custom in these later years of this life, as he went he spoke. "I'm getting too old this."

_[end of flashback]_

* * *

><p><em>[flashback]<em>

Lisa had tried to get on with her life after the demise of her fiancée, but had found it a great struggle. Discovering that your fiancée was a psycho who was trying to take over the universe is not something that you recover from easily. It hadn't been helped by the fact that the Doctor had insisted on hanging around, to keep an eye on her. Over the months she had grown to like him as a great friend, which had turned out to be a good thing when her other friends were killed and impersonated by an alien species that the Doctor had called the Wet-puppies.

They looked like puppy sized centipedes normally but covered themselves in a wet substance to protect themselves. This substance could take any form, even that of a person, and then be manipulated very accurately to impersonate said object; although they always had ominous green eyes. The Doctor had encountered them before so knew how to deal with them, but they were not about to fall for the same trick twice. With Lisa's help the Doctor had managed to end their plans to take over the world.

"I suppose it was a good thing you kept that ring," the Doctor said as they made their way to the TARDIS. "I would have thought you would have known better though."

"I'm sorry," Lisa replied. "I just couldn't bring myself to get rid of it."

The Doctor nodded. "I will try to deactivate it. The Wet-puppies was a one off, I'm not having It used on anyone else. Harry's influence must end."

Lisa nodded in agreement. They stopped outside a large, blue, wooden box. "Is this where you have been living?" she questioned.

"This is my spaceship," the Doctor said proudly. "She's probably a bit grumpy with me at the moment seeing as I have left her in the same place for such a long time."

"So you're going to leave then?" she asked sadly. "Go off on adventures through space and time."

"The universe needs me," he said sadly. "It isn't all fun and games, you realise. They don't call me the lonely traveller for nothing. I shall have fun, but I will be lonely."

"Just like me," Lisa pointed out. "You're the only friend I have left now."

"Well you could come with me if you like," the Doctor suggested.

"What travel with you through time and space?" she said in surprise.

"I would understand if you didn't," the Doctor replied. "Many people have turned me down. But we work well together, you and I."

Lisa slowly broke into a smile. "I would love to," she said.

The Doctor smiled back. "After you," he said opening the door and standing back for her.

She stepped inside and gazed in wonder at the huge console room. On a raised platform with a glass floor was a great hexagonal control centre, the console, in the centre of this was a pillar that rose up into the ceiling, Lisa couldn't tell how high it was. The Doctor shut the door behind him and went over to the console.

"Good thing you don't have anyone to say goodbye to," he said. "Because the TARDIS is itching to take off straight away." He pressed several buttons, flicked a few switches and pulled several levers. "What do you think?" he asked. "And don't say it's bigger on the inside, I'm sick of people saying that."

"It's beautiful," she said.

The Doctor nodded, he liked that description. "Hold on tight," he said. "No suing if you get injured." He pulled a final lever and the TARDIS lurched into life.

_[end of Flashback]_

* * *

><p><em>[flashback]<em>

Lisa stood beside the Doctor who was setting up a pulley system in the main chamber.

"So your plan is to shout at them and hope that that makes them stop," she said.

"In a nutshell," the Doctor agreed.

"If you ask me, that is a stupid plan," Lisa declared.

"Well no one is asking you are they," the Doctor replied snidely.

"They wear red shirts as a symbol that they will continue fighting for their cause until they have no more blood left in them, that Klakzon that we encountered alone was proof of that" Lisa persisted. "What make you think that threatening them with a few more rifles will make them stop."

"It is the threat of oblivion," the Doctor explained. "Nikon will likely be among them, and as much as he is willing to give up for his cause he is not the sort of person who wants to die. What I am threatening them with is certain destruction as opposed to probable destruction.

"But you are right, they may not go for it. That is what the cage in the rafters is for." As he explained all this Lisa noticed that he seemed very sad.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Nothing," the Doctor growled. "Now I need to get this done before they get here."

Lisa shrugged and went to sit down with her back against a stone plinth.

_[end of flashback]_

* * *

><p>These weren't the only images that went through her mind as the energy was sucked from her body by the second death lens. She also saw the many adventures she had with the Previous Doctor leading up to his demise and subsequent regeneration, then it went through the adventures she had had with the current Doctor. She saw a Klakzon fighting the Doctor with all his might despite his entrails being strewn all over the floor, she saw the Wet-puppies in the guise of her friends advancing with an unprotected one to take her. She saw soldiers that were supposedly on their side suddenly change into Zygons and swiftly kill those that hadn't, the previous Doctor firing his pistol yet never killing anyone with it and then swaggering off stating his catchphrase. Alkrad came into view many times along with the Doctor's cheerful and poignant singing. But more often than not she would return to her very first meeting with the Doctor. The night of Harry's proposal, and she hadn't even realised it was him.<p>

"Please don't be in love with someone else  
>Please don't have somebody waiting on you"<p>

She finally loosened her grip on Harry and they both fell to the ground. The Doctor managed to catch Lisa as Harry hit the floor with a crash. The crystal in the ring glowed brightly before exploding. Harry was dead, and this time he was not going to come back.

The Doctor gently stroked Lisa's hair. With that contact he saw the image in her mind of Harry's proposal and he himself helping him to ask. This flickered to his previous self rescuing her from the potential rapist before returning to his current incarnation giving her and Harry a bottle of champagne again.

"Thank you Doctor," Lisa breathed.

The Doctor could not think of anything to say, so he started singing.

"This night is sparkling, don't you let it go  
>I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home<br>I'll spend forever wondering if you knew  
>This night is flawless, don't you let it go<br>I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone  
>I'll spend forever wondering if you knew<br>I was enchanted to meet you."

Lisa smiled softly and slowly closed her eyes. The Doctor kept in touch with her mind for as long as possible before that disappeared too. He stopped singing, finding himself unable to any more. Not without his voice cracking at least. Once again he had lost a companion to the Cybermen.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: the song that Lisa sings, and the Doctor finishes, was Enchanted by Taylor Swift in case you were wondering. It is a brilliant song and seemed very appropriate for what was happening in this chapter. The Doctor also sang Stockholm Syndrome by Muse, another fantastic song that I listened to in the build up to writing this chapter. I thought the image of him playing it on the Cybermen equipment would be funny.<strong>

**The Wet-puppies are the villains from Cuckoo Spit, a short story from the Doctor Who storybook 2007.**

**If anyone has been affected in any way by the events of this chapter do not hesitate to review or PM me, because frankly I need someone to talk to in order to get over it.**

**The next chapter will act as a short epilogue to this part, it is finally over (almost). It should come out sooner than scheduled.  
><strong>


	19. Nemesis 10: Conclusion

**Author's note: here is the final chapter to part three, it acts more as an epilogue than as a proper full blown chapter to bring this part to a close. Thanks once again to those who reviewed the previous chapter.**

* * *

><p><span>Last Laugh of a Nemesis<span>

The Doctor stood up cradling Lisa's body in his arms like a baby. He ignored Dross' attempts to talk to him, he just strode from the room without looking back. He strode down the corridor with purpose, ignoring all the Cybermen that he passed. Ignoring those who apologised and those that remained silent alike, he even ignored Quadaff who showed only contempt on his face.

"Harry is dead?" Quadaff barked. The Doctor nodded but kept going. "You will hold up your end of the bargain then. You will leave."

The Doctor paused in his tracks and turned to the General. He spoke surprisingly calmly. "My end of the bargain? You didn't hold up your end to the bargain. But I have honour, if I see any of you lot again it will be all too soon." He turned and resumed his march down the corridor.

"Where were you Quadaff?" he heard Dross ask from behind. "We needed you in there."

"Looks like you managed without us."

"That girl died, we could have got him without that happening if you had bothered to help!"

The Doctor turned the corner and shut the voices from his mind. He needed to get out of here quickly, or he wasn't sure if he would be able to help himself.

"Doctor I am so sorry." He paused and turned to the voice. It was Gern. "I wanted to help you," he added hopelessly, "Quadaff wouldn't let us. I think he was hoping that you would both die."

The Doctor looked at him sadly for a moment before turning and walking off once more.

"How will you leave?" Gern asked. "I mean you must have a ship or something."

"I have a ship in the mountains somewhere," the Doctor nodded. "I will find it eventually, you need not be concerned."

"That could take you hours."

"I'm counting on it," the Doctor said matter-of-factly.

"And the cannibals?"

"In my experience the cannibals are nothing to fear compared to you," the Doctor said snidely. "Right now I would take them all on frankly. I will not hesitate to retaliate should one of them attack me with swift vengeance. And they shall learn to fear the Valeyard!"

"The who?" Gern said in surprise. "Listen to yourself Doctor. Where has that jolly man that sung in the jeep all the way down to Goldbridge. People die all the time, it is sad. I have lost most of my friends and family but have I become bitter? No because I know that is not what they would want. They would want me to continue to live my life in happiness, respecting their memory."

The Doctor looked at him horrified. "Your right," he said softly. "I don't know what came over me." He gently stroked Lisa's hair affectionately. "I have lost companions before, I managed to recover from them too. I need to find the TARDIS, I need to get out of here."

"Let me help you," Gern said. "You will be able to cover more ground with my help."

"Will Quadaff allow you?" the Doctor asked raising his eyebrows.

"Let's not worry about Quadaff right now," Gern shook his head.

* * *

><p>The Doctor was completely silent as Gern drove back into the mountains, only making a sound when he needed to alert Gern to the fact that the TARDIS was not nearby. They had been driving for what seemed like hours when the Doctor suddenly perked up.<p>

"There it is," he said.

"Where?" Gern asked in surprise. "I don't see anything."

"It's nearby," the Doctor assured him. "I can sense it."

He helped the Doctor out of the back of the jeep and stood there shyly, unsure of how to treat him. "I can make my own way from here," the Doctor said for him. "Thank you for this."

"It's the least I can do," Gern said.

"Such a shame you are going to try to kill me in the future," the Doctor muttered. "I have found your company to be surprisingly agreeable."

"I will not be in my right mind though," Gern said hopefully.

"I'm afraid you will," the Doctor said solemnly. "You will be acting upon what you believe is right, coupled with orders that you can no longer refuse."

Gern nodded sadly. "Before you go," he said as the Doctor turned to leave, "what is a Valeyard?"

"Why do you ask?" the Doctor said with suspicion.

"When you were ranting back at Goldbridge you said that people would come to fear the Valeyard," Gern explained.

The Doctor's eyes widened in shock. "Did I really?" he asked frantically.

"Yes, what is a Valeyard?" Gern asked in concern.

"It doesn't matter," the Doctor said calming down slightly. "Thank you for warning me, I know I need to be careful now. But if you do ever meet anyone who calls himself the Valeyard you must not trust him. He may be very like me, but I can assure you that he will not be sympathetic like me. He will mean you harm and do everything in his power to cause it, without caring about the consequences. And on that bombshell it's time for me to leave."

The Doctor turned and marched up the rocky slope that led towards where the TARDIS was parked. Gern watched him sadly for a few seconds before turning to get back into his jeep. He was about to jump aboard when he saw the headlights of another jeep appearing in the distance. He paused and watched with interest as the jeep slowly pulled up alongside him.

"Is the Doctor with you?" the driver shouted from the cabin.

"Just gone up there, Talon," Gern pointed. "Apparently his ship is up there."

"You're not too late miss," Talon said to his passenger. "Now can you remove that pistol from my ribs please!"

* * *

><p>The Doctor's mind was racing as he made his way over to the TARDIS. He couldn't possibly be becoming the Valeyard now, could he? He had lost companions painfully before, why should this be any different? He was merely upset now, once he recovered he was sure to be fine once more. But then why had he threatened the vengeance of the Valeyard?<p>

He looked down at Lisa's soft features. She looked so peaceful, as if she was merely asleep. Could it really be her death that provoked him to turn into his dark future self? If the Valeyard was still his future self. After the centuries that had passed since his previous reminder of the being he could transform into, who was to say that he wasn't there now. _I must remain strong,_ he said to himself, _I must not go dark. She died to save me, I wouldn't be doing her any favours if I turned against the universe over it_.

Vaguely satisfied that he had managed to subdue his darkest desires he laid Lisa gently to the ground. He would have to bury her now, he couldn't handle carrying her body all the way back to Earth. She had been his close companion for a long time. It wouldn't be just any burial, he would honour her with a Time Lord cremation. He solemnly turned from her body and made his way towards the TARDIS, where he would find the relevant material to build a pyre.

He froze as he stepped on something that made a cracking sound. He looked down and spied a pair of glasses. One lens was completely shattered while the other was cracked, the frame was badly distorted. He knelt down and picked them up. They were Lisa's glasses. And finally the tears came. They poured from his eyes like twin waterfalls and he bawled like a baby.

He reared his head back and gave a roar, expelling a huge stream of bio-energy into the atmosphere. Once that mighty aftershock had subsided he slumped forwards gently sobbing.

"Doctor?" a soft voice pulled him back to reality. He turned his head and beheld Broxa, the cannibal leader. "I heard about what she did."

He smiled painfully as tears continued to roll down his cheeks. "It should have been me," he managed eventually.

Broxa looked down sadly at Lisa's body. "I don't think she sees it that way," she said. "Lisa was a kind and gentle soul but she couldn't travel around saving the universe like you do. She chose to do it, so that you could be saved. And I think it was the only way she could truly be free of him."

"Perhaps you are right," he shrugged, getting back to his feet.

"What are you going to do with her?" she asked.

"You aren't going to eat her, if that's what you are asking."

"No, of course not," Broxa exclaimed, deeply offended.

"I will cremate her," the Doctor said. "The traditional Time Lord burial. I'm sure she would be honoured."

Broxa nodded. "I don't see anything that you can use to burn her," she observed.

"No, I was about to get the appropriate material from the TARDIS," the Doctor explained.

"Your ship?" Broxa questioned. "Is that nearby?" The Doctor pointed it out. "Bit small isn't it?"

"Funnily enough, that's roughly what I thought when I first saw you," the Doctor replied. "I wouldn't worry, it feels bigger on the inside."

She followed him as he strolled over and unlocked the door to the TARDIS. She followed him inside and gazed around in wonder at the massive console room, currently awash with flotsam and loose wires.

"Yeah, I see what you mean," she said smiling.

* * *

><p>They had taken out many items of wooden furniture and broken them down to make a good pile of firewood. They piled it up in the traditional way, dousing each piece in brandy; because the Doctor did not have the traditional accelerant. Lisa's body was then lain on top, her hair combed back as neatly as possible and her arms folded across the front of her body.<p>

The Doctor stood beside it, holding aloft a chair leg that they had turned into a flaming torch. "Goodbye Lisa," he said softly, and lit the pyre.

They stood there for several minutes as the flames slowly consumed the body. The Doctor took the moment to remember some of his fondest moments with Lisa. The great space dragon that they had saved from the poachers, meeting Giuseppe Garibaldi, the sights of the planet Galanta. Amazingly he didn't cry this time. He pulled out Lisa's glasses, which he had put in his pocket, and stared at the lens. His face leered evilly back at him. He blinked in shock and found that the reflection now only showed his sombre face. _I'm not turning dark,_ he vowed, _the Valeyard is not coming._ He hurled the glasses into the fire, they would have only caused him grief if he had kept them.

When the fire had burned to its entirety the Doctor turned and walked over to the TARDIS. "So what are you going to do now?" he asked.

"Not sure," Broxa shrugged. "Go back into the caves and fend for myself once more, most likely. Might try and find those mushrooms that Kayvon mentioned. What will happen to him?"

"You care about him," the Doctor observed.

"He was kind to me when the others wanted to do me harm," she nodded. "Just like you and Lisa did."

"I fear that he will not have a happy ending," the Doctor said solemnly. "He will either die when his mind finally realises what he has become and starts to reject it, or he will get fitted with the chest unit that controls his actions. He will cease to be Kayvon and he will truly become a Cyberman. The first true Cyberman."

"Well," Broxa said sadly, "I guess this is goodbye then."

"Only if you want it to be," the Doctor replied. "You would go back to your desperate existence that will eventually lead you to extinction, or more likely conversion into a Cyberman. Alternatively, you could come with me. Travel through time and space. Running from monsters, seeing beautiful planets, battling aliens, meeting your forefathers – no forget that one, I'm not coming back to Mondas, I need to remember you are not human – meeting Earth's forefathers and, in your case, eating the first decent meal in a long time. What do you say?"

"You want me to come with you?" Broxa said in surprise.

"12 out of 10!" the Doctor smiled, the first since Lisa's demise. But then he turned sombre again. "Only if you want to obviously."

"You think I want to stay on this lifeless rock?" Broxa exclaimed. "Of course I'll come!"

The Doctor broke out into a broad grin and bounded into the TARDIS, closing the doors once Broxa was inside. He danced over to the console and began pressing buttons and pulling levers.

"Where to first?" he asked.

"Anywhere," Broxa shouted. "Just so long as there is life."

"Earth it is then," the Doctor shrugged and finished the take off procedures. The central column began to rise and fall and the signature grating sound could be heard. The Doctor laughed and grabbed hold of the hand rail like a pirate. He gave a whoop and began to sing. Lisa wouldn't have wanted him to remain miserable after all.

"Living easy  
>Loving free<br>Season ticket for a one way ride  
>Asking nothing<br>Leave me be  
>Taken everything in my stride<br>Don't need reason  
>Don't need rhyme<br>Ain't nothin' I would rather do  
>Going down<br>By the time  
>My friends are gonna be there too, eh<p>

I'm on a highway to hell  
>On the highway to hell<br>Highway to hell  
>I'm on the highway to hell<p>

No stop signs  
>Speed limit<br>Nobody's gonna slow me down  
>Like a wheel<br>Gonna spin it  
>Nobody's gonna mess me 'round<br>Hey Satan  
>Paid my dues<br>Playin' in a rockin' band  
>Hey momma<br>Look at me  
>I'm on my way to the Promised Land, wooh<p>

I'm on the highway to hell  
>Highway to hell<br>I'm on the highway to hell  
>Highway to hell"<p>

Broxa laughed and screamed as the TARDIS bucked and rolled. She flew through the air and was caught by the Doctor before she could do herself an injury on one of the hand rails. They looked at one another and grinned before they both sang the chorus one more time.

"I'm on the highway to hell  
>On the highway to hell<br>I'm on the highway to hell  
>On the highway to<br>Hell  
>Highway to hell<br>I'm on the highway to hell  
>Highway to hell<br>Highway to hell  
>Highway to hell<br>I'm on the highway to hell  
>Highway to hell<p>

And I'm going down!

On the highway to hell."

* * *

><p><strong>End of part three (at long last, it is going to take a lot for me to do anywhere near as well on any of the next parts).<strong>

**The song at the end if Highway to Hell by AC/DC**

**Coming up: Part four, Corpse Breath**

**In which the Doctor and Broxa land in a medieval village, and discover the chilling proof of life after death.**


	20. Corpse Breath

**Part 4: Corpse Breath**

**This is my first attempt at a historical story, hopefully I manage to pull it off.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

The priest walked slowly through the corridors of Alnwick Castle. A servant had fallen from the rafters and was in bed dying, it was his duty to give him his last rites to allow his soul to pass onto the next world unimpeded. The priest was uncertain why the man had been in the rafters in the first place, but that was not his main concern. His concern was making sure that he could perform the last rites on him, before he passed on to the next world.

He finally came upon the chamber where the servant lay and entered respectfully. The man was draped over a bed, his eyes flickering about in delirium and his head bandaged tightly. His eyes focused on the priest and he gave a moan.

"No I'm fine, go away!" he whinged.

The priest walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at him pitifully. "Your life has been cruel," he said. "It appears your ill fortune has followed you even here."

"It is not ill fortune," the man moaned. "It was that women!" he spat in bitterness.

"Now is not the time to dwell on that which is past," said the priest. "You must prepare your soul for the next world."

"No not now, I am not ready," the man said in despair.

"Are there any sins weighing down on your soul?" the priest asked.

"You want to know about my sins?" the servant exclaimed. "What about her sins? She is having an affair, the adulterous whore! Having it off with another man!"

The priest sighed. He had heard that the man had begun seeing things almost the instant that he had hit the ground, the fall had obviously been great if he still insisted that his wife was having an affair. That seemed impossible in his eyes, she had been the one to take him down here in the first place and had seemed very concerned about his welfare. The priest believed that she did truly love him.

"You must perform the last rites," he cautioned. "Your soul will not be able pass on until you have performed them."

"I don't want them," the man spat. "I want justice!"

"You must, sir," the priest insisted frantically.

"No!" the servant moaned in pain. "I am not ready. I'm not dead yet."

The priest realised that he was not going to persuade the servant to take them now. "I shall return tomorrow morning," the priest said. Hopefully he would be more coherent then. The priest left without a backwards glance and didn't return until the next morning as he had promised.

But by then he was too late. The man was already dead. Despite him not performing the last rites everyone was incredibly sympathetic to his plight and insisted on giving him a proper Christian burial. The priest had been reluctant to do this, but when the wife came to visit him he found himself agreeing to this course of action.

A day later, after the man's burial, strange things began to happen...

* * *

><p>"Very sad business," the first man said drunkenly. "Always had bad luck, even before he came here."<p>

"Ever wondered what he was doing up in the rafters?" his short, skinny friend asked, slightly more soberly.

"Must have been cleaning something," the fat man shrugged. "That's the sort of thing servants do."

The short man nodded uncertainly. "Doesn't make much sense to me," he said. "I mean, I heard he had gone to Abberwick for the week."

"Your thinking too hard again Norbert," the fat man chuckled. "Always some mystery to be had in your opinion."

"I'm just supposing," Norbert bristled. "But I definitely heard he had gone away for the week."

"Shouldn't always believe everything you hear," the fat man slapped him on the back. "Ain't that right John?" he hollered at a figure slowly advancing towards them from the end of the street.

Norbert squinted through the darkness at the figure. "I don't think that that is John, Frederick," he said.

"It doesn't matter who it is," Frederick scoffed. He advanced towards the figure. "I am right, he shouldn't always listen to what others say."

Norbert did not follow him, he did not like the look of this figure. He was walking too stiffly and unnaturally and hadn't once deigned to reply to Frederick. As the figure stumbled closer he could tell that the arms were hanging limply at his side and the head was held at a crooked angle.

"Fred..." Norbert began but was cut off by Frederick.

"What are you skulking back there for you ninny?" he shook his head and turned back to the man who was almost upon him by now. He too could see the odd manner of his movement and way he held his body but was too drunk to respond appropriately. The man took a final step closer and his face was illuminated.

Frederick immediately sobered in shock. It was the servant who had just died up at the castle. The corpse opened its mouth and breathed a white vapour right in the fat man's face. Norbert watched in horror as his friend stumbled backwards. Horrible purple blotches appeared on his skin and his breath caught painfully in his throat. Frederick gave a strangled cry before turning and keeling over. Norbert then saw who the corpse was himself. He turned and fled.

The corpse wondered forwards, ignoring the fallen body beside him. After a few metres it stopped and tilted back. It opened its mouth and exhaled the white, disease ridden vapour, that it had exhaled over Frederick just moments earlier, into the sky. It continued to wonder the streets exhaling into the sky every so often, spreading its poison breath. People who encountered it fled in fear. Some breathed in the vapour and fell ill like Frederick had done, but at a much slower rate as the corpse had not breathed directly into their faces like it had done to him. The Town of Alnwick was now under the curse of the Corpse Breath.

* * *

><p>"And this is the billiards room," the Doctor said opening a door into another large blue carpeted room with comfortable looking furniture. This one had a large billiards table in the centre.<p>

Broxa looked at it with interest. "What is billiards?" she asked.

"You place a number of balls on the table and depending on the variation try to score points by hitting coloured ones with a white one," the Doctor explained. "In straight billiards you get a point each time you hit both balls with your ball and get another go each time. Jacob Schaefer, Sr. managed to score 690 points without missing in a tournament once, he would have done so much better if he had listened to my advice and not tried to show off on the six hundred and ninety first shot. There are other variants that involve bouncing off cushions and potting balls. I think the easiest game for you to have a go at would be pool, which simply involves potting all balls of your chosen colour and then the black."

Broxa nodded with interest. "Would you like a game?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah ok," Broxa shrugged.

The Doctor smiled excitedly and quickly set it up. Broxa sidled up beside him and watched with interest as the table slowly changed to the appropriate size and grew pockets, one at each corner and two in the centre of the long sides.

"Psychic table," the Doctor explained. "Changes shape to whatever game I wish to play; even if it isn't a variation on billiards, I had several long hours enjoying subbuteo with Jimmy Greaves once. Sorry, rambling again."

He showed Broxa the technique to hit the balls and, although she struggled at first, quickly became quite skilled. The Doctor discovered that whatever skill he had once had for the game must have been left behind after one of his regenerations. He miscued shots, potted the white, bounced it off the table and even managed to pot one of Broxa's reds after one poorly placed shot.

"I used to be really good at this," he insisted as he bounced the cue ball off the table once more.

"Of course," Broxa replied catching it and preparing for her free shot. "Did you ever play this with Lisa."

"No, never," he said with a pang of sadness. "She never took any interest in this game. And my previous self was very good at this."

Broxa decided not to ask what he meant when he had said 'previous self' and played her shots. Eventually Broxa had potted all her reds and only had the black left to go, whereas only one of the Doctor's yellows had been potted; this one potted by Broxa in one of her earlier turns. The Doctor lined up for a shot, squinted with concentration and finally managed to pot one. He punched the air in delight and danced around as if he had won the lottery, only when he calmed down and prepared for his next shot did he realise that the cue ball was still moving. It rolled around the table hitting each and every remaining yellow before coming to a halt directly in line with the black and a middle pocket. Each yellow ever so slowly rolled into a pocket leaving the Doctor in the same position as Broxa.

"That," Broxa said, incredibly miffed, "is _not_ fair."

The Doctor smiled cheekily at her and simply shrugged. He leaned down to take the shot that was certain to end the game. The TARDIS lurched at the vital moment making the shot skew well wide of the mark. He looked up with an ironic smile on his face.

"Looks like we are closing in on our destination," he said. "Better get back to the console room so I can guide her down."

Broxa followed as he sprinted from the room and down the corridor. They held onto the wall for support when the TARDIS lurched once more.

"Alright I'm coming!" the Doctor shouted.

They entered the console room and raced over to the console. The Doctor began flying around, pressing buttons and pulling levers, seemingly at random, but the TARDIS quickly began to stabilise and make the familiar grating noise that signalled the dematerialisation.

"We have arrived at our destination," the Doctor said. "Please make sure you take all items with you when you leave the carriage."

* * *

><p>The TARDIS doors opened into a forest. The Doctor strode out deeply breathed in the sweet, oxygen rich air; it tasted so good after the staleness of Mondas. He licked at it with his tongue and noted no pollution in the air so they obviously weren't in the 21st century, possibly 19th century but it was hard to tell with only the taste of the air to go on. He turned to see where Broxa was. She was stood in the doorway gazing at the lush greenery in wonder.<p>

"Welcome to Earth," he said.

She slowly advanced towards one of the trees and rubbed it with her hands. "It's real," she breathed. She turned and stroked one of the leaves, then broke out into one of the widest grins the Doctor had ever seen. "And alive."

She started to laugh. Softly at first, but it quickly grew into a hysterical cackle. She spun around taking in the sights, continuously laughing at the beauty of it all. Then she spied the ground and dived to the floor to gently massage the soft grass and leaves and soil between her fingers and against the side of her face, gasping and moaning with pleasure. As she rolled onto her back the Doctor saw she was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed loudly. But he was wise enough to realise that these were tears of joy, not sadness, so made no move to comfort her. It was strange, he hadn't put her down as the sort of person to cry, or display any sort of emotions really.

"Well I've never seen anyone do that before," he commented.

She jumped to her feet and began to fan herself with her hands. "It's so warm," she said erotically, and promptly removed her jacket. The Doctor yelped in shock when he realised that she hadn't put her shirt back on, since removing it to act as his white flag, and quickly averted his eyes. Broxa sighed with relief and stood up to allow the gentle breeze to blow against her bare upper body.

"This planet is amazing," she enthused.

"Yes," the Doctor nodded in agreement. "Do you think it would be at all possible for you to put something on?"

"No," she replied simply. "It's too warm."

"We could go to the wardrobe room and find you something cooler to wear," the Doctor suggested, more hopeful than expectant.

"No," Broxa repeated. "I'm not going back in there until we have fully explored the surroundings."

The Doctor chanced a glance at her and was relieved to see the back of her. She was removing her boots and gently feeling the ground with her bare feet. She shuddered with ecstasy.

"It is wonderful that you are finding such joy in this world," the Doctor said. "I am always glad to see someone so amazed by travelling with me, but you have to observe certain courtesies of the times. Even in the 21st century being topless is inappropriate, so I dread to think how they will react here, and I am frankly sick of unwelcome scrutiny due to female companions appearing naked in their eyes. Oh don't do that, that'll make it worse."

Broxa tore off the legs of her jeans, which wasn't too difficult as they were already very ragged in places, once she was done she had transformed them into a ragged pair of denim shorts. The Doctor held up his arms in exasperation, why did they never listen to him? She discarded the strips of material and ploughed forwards into the longer grass. The Doctor picked up her discarded jacket and followed after her.

"Put this back on," he pleaded. "I could cut the sleeves off if you want."

Broxa mostly ignored him. She was busy gazing around in wonder at the flora and fauna that surrounded them. "It's so beautiful," she said.

"Yes it is," the Doctor agreed. "But could you put this back on before anyone comes and sees you."

"It's too hot for that," Broxa replied once more. "And I don't care what people think of me."

"I think the humans would disagree with you there," the Doctor muttered. "Although compared to Mondas this is positively scorching," he mused. "Perhaps I should have foreseen such an eventuality as this and given you appropriate clothing first."

Broxa suddenly came to a stop and gasped. "I think I saw a Vaux," she said excitedly.

"That will have been a fox," the Doctor corrected. "The animals are slightly different here on Earth. And I would watch what where you are treading if I were you."

Broxa turned round and gave him a quizzical look. "I was the Mayor of a tribe of cannibals," she said loftily. "I think that I know how to look after myself without guidance from you."

_Famous last words, _the Doctor thought. "Don't!" he shouted, alas too late. Broxa took another step, there was a hiss and she fell to the floor screaming in pain.

The Doctor rushed over in time to see a thin scaly body slither off into the deep grass. "Vipera Berus," he said. "Better known as the common European adder. You had to go and step on the tail of the only venomous snake on the British Isles didn't you."

Broxa's face was screwed up in pain as she clutched at her left leg. The ankle had blood pouring out of an obvious bite and was already starting to swell. "Do something," she moaned.

The Doctor knelt down and put his lips over the gaping wound and sucked with all his might. He turned and spat out a mixture of blood and, hopefully, adder venom before resuming the sucking. This process was repeated a few times, until Broxa's moans reduced in intensity.

"What are you doing to this poor girl?" the Doctor looked up and came face to face with an arrowhead. Peering round he spied the man holding the bow, he was quite short and dressed in clothes that immediately told the Doctor what period of history they were in.

_Medieval times, _he thought, _11__th__, 12__th__ or 13__th__ century. He must think I was raping her. _"Thank God you are here," he said loudly. "This poor girl has just been bitten by an adder."

The man moved round so that he could see the wound on her leg. "What has happened to her clothes then?" he asked suspiciously.

"I have no idea," the Doctor lied convincingly. "I spied her from a distance and came to her aid as soon as she was bitten, I assume that you are here because you heard the screams as well."

The man lowered his bow. "Correct," he said.

"I have sucked the poison from her system," the Doctor explained. "But she will need some rest to recover. Is there a settlement nearby?"

"Yes," the man nodded. "Alnwick is not far from here at all."

"Excellent," the Doctor shouted. "Help me carry her to Alnwick then."

The man reluctantly agreed. "We are being haunted by an evil creature that has brought death and disease to the town," he explained. "I wouldn't want to bring it more victims, but there is nowhere else nearby."

"Sounds intriguing," the Doctor commented. "Let us get there with great haste. I'm the Doctor by the way."

"I am Norbert," the man introduced himself as he led the way towards the town of Alnwick.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: I got the inspiration for this story after watching Tony Robinson's Gods and Monsters, in which he came across the story of a servant who died after falling from the rafters without taking the last rites and then haunted the town of Alnwick as an undead. Please let me know what you think.<strong>


	21. Corpse 2

**Author's note: I am so far ahead with my chapters that I have decided to speed up my updates for a couple of weeks. Thank you once again to those who reviewed the previous chapter, so good to get some encouragement.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

Broxa opened one eye and flicked it around suspiciously. It was a simple room of humble origins, with bare wooden walls and daylight creeping through holes in the roof. The bed that she lay on consisted of a simple feather mattress, a pillow so soft it was as if she did not have one, and a thin, musty blanket.

She opened her other eye and tried to get up. The instant she moved pain exploded in her leg. A burning sensation spread up her leg, the source seeming to be the throbbing stinging in her ankle. She grimaced and waited for the pain to subside. When it didn't she began to panic, what sort of injury was this that caused immense pain whether you moved or not? It was certainly nothing she had ever experienced before.

It was then that she finally remembered. Strolling carefree through the forest, and then stepping upon something thin and rough which squirmed under her foot. Then there was the twin pain in her ankle, like two simultaneous injections of acid. She grimaced even more at the memory, both from the pain (which had subsided a lot since then) and the shame of it all; how could she have been so stupid?

She groaned and buried her head under the blanket, peeking back out when she heard someone enter. She decided not to hide again upon realising that it was the Doctor.

"Fascinating time, the 11th century," the Doctor said sitting down on the chair beside her. "It is a welcome relief to not have them horrified by the fact you were showing your ankles, although I'm not sure whether them thinking you were a fairy changeling was any better." Broxa gave a stifled scream as the Doctor put his feet up on the bed and on her bad ankle. "Interesting to see all the villagers with all their different jobs, going about their everyday lives. Those that are left that is, most people have abandoned the place. Norbert reckons it is because of fear, and I am inclined to agree; I wouldn't want to stay in a place riddled with disease and haunted by a zombie at night. Norbert's the one who found us by the way, him and his family are part of the few to have remained. And I think my regeneration is finally coming to an end, the aftershocks are less frequent and less violent, and my head is a lot clearer."

He removed his feet from the bed and looked at Broxa as if seeing her for the first time. "How's the ankle?"

"Not so bad," she lied.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows and gently nudged the ankle once more causing another gasp from Broxa. "We aren't on Mondas anymore. People will help you when you are feeling unwell, they won't abandon you."

"I'm fine," she insisted.

"I'm a Doctor," the Doctor said simply. She nodded and reluctantly allowed the Doctor to have a look at the ankle in question.

As he slowly undid the dressing that had been wrapped round her ankle, a portly woman entered. She placed a bowl and a spoon on the table beside Broxa before going to the Doctor's side.

"How is it Doctor?" She asked.

"Still swollen and inflamed," the Doctor muttered. "But overall not too bad. She will be able to walk on it tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"I managed to suck most of the poison from the wound before it could spread," the Doctor explained.

"Um, what exactly did happen to me?" Broxa piped in, unhappy about not being included in the conversation when it was about her.

"You went and stomped on an adder's tail," the Doctor said. "And it rightfully bit you for your troubles."

"And where did the poison come from?" She asked, still not fully understanding. "I have been bitten by things before, and this has never happened."

The Doctor looked at the peasant woman with a look of sadness. "The poor girl," he said, "the trauma has made her forget everything. The adder is venomous, it injects poison into whatever it bites."

Broxa looked down at her ankle in concern. "How poisonous is it?"

"Poisonous enough," he replied. "Very mild compared to the snakes you find in Australia or Africa, but still fairly dangerous if untreated."

"Where?" The women asked in confusion.

"But luckily I was able to suck most of it out," the Doctor repeated, ignoring her. "I'll just redress the wound and leave you in the capable hands of Mrs. Joiner. I'm going out to find this zombie with Norbert."

"I was under the impression that it only came out at night," Broxa commented in confusion.

"You've been out most of the day," the Doctor clarified, "it is dusk as we speak." He finished dressing the wound and stood up to take his leave. "Goodnight."

Broxa slowly turned towards the woman, Mrs. Joiner, whom she had been left with, with an expression bordering on fear and nervousness.

"What happened to you? You poor dear," Mrs. Joiner asked.

Broxa had the horrible realisation that she and the Doctor had not worked out an explanation for her appearance in the forest. The problem was that Broxa didn't know anything about Earth, the Doctor was the expert there. How was she going to come up with a convincing story without arousing suspicion? She decided that she would mostly tell the truth, and hope that it correlated to something that was believable on this planet.

"Our tribe was attacked by footpads," she said. "They came down on us out of nowhere, killing all in their path in their quest to steal our valuable possessions. I was the only one to get out alive." She was saddened by this realisation, all those that she had lived with and feasted with were all gone, killed by Kayvon's footpads. Then she was saddened when realising that this realisation was not as saddening as it should have been. Even with everything they had gone through together they had not been a family of hers, they had gone mad a long time ago. It was amazing she had been able to hold onto her sanity. She didn't say another word being too choked, she hadn't even mourned their deaths.

"You poor thing," the woman said soothingly. "I had no idea those sorts of people were about." She turned and picked up the bowl. "I made you some soup. You look half starved to death."

"What is it?" Broxa asked, eyeing the soup suspiciously.

"Chicken," Mrs. Joiner replied, misunderstanding the question. She placed the warm bowl on Broxa's lap.

She lifted it up and stared at the liquid in confusion. What sort of food was this? She tentatively sniffed at it. It wasn't a particularly luxurious soup by modern standards, the sort that snooty restaurateurs would refuse after tasting it (complaining about lack of seasoning, it being too thin, or that there was not enough actual chicken in it), but to Broxa it smelt gorgeous. Her eyes glazed over and she let out a soft moan of ecstasy. She leant forwards and tasted the liquid with her tongue; she moaned with pleasure once more. Mrs. Joiner's mouth gaped open like a cave as Broxa leant into the bowl and lapped up the soup like a dog. The warm liquid splashed about wildly, leaving dark blotches on the blanket. The girl paused to catch her breath before proceeding to suck noisily at the remaining liquid. Before long the soup was all gone, bowl completely cleaned by Broxa's tongue, she looked up and smiled at Mrs. Joiner.

"That was lovely," she said erotically, soup dribbling down her chin.

Mrs. Joiner looked down at the spoon she was holding in her hand lost for words. "I suppose it is too late to offer you the spoon," she said.

Broxa looked at her in confusion. "What's a spoon?" She said.

* * *

><p>Twilight had come and gone and the town of Alnwick was bathed in the light of an almost full moon. This silver light illuminated the pale mist that floated about the town. The Doctor sniffed at it, <em>definitely alien<em>, he thought. "So this is the corpse breath," he said striding forwards. He left a Doctor shaped gap in the poisonous haze that quickly refilled. Norbert followed him more tentatively.

"Aren't you worried about the demons entering your body?" He asked. He had wrapped a long cloth around his mouth and nose in an attempt to combat this.

"In my experience demons and evil spirits should be more afraid of me," the Doctor replied cheerfully. "Even the devil himself could not defeat me."

Norbert raised his eyebrows in confusion but decided not to question it. He followed closely as the Doctor wandered through the deserted streets.

"So how long has the creature been haunting you?" The Doctor asked.

"Weeks," Norbert replied. "Ever since he died."

"Yes, I didn't expect him to be a zombie while he was still alive," the Doctor nodded.

"There are some details that don't really make sense in my eyes," Norbert continued, not hearing the Doctor's comment. "The day he died he was not actually here for a start."

"Well he must have been here," the Doctor replied. "Otherwise he wouldn't have died here."

"I mean he wasn't supposed to be here," Norbert clarified. "We all saw him leave for some work at Abberwick."

"At least you did anyway," the Doctor finished for him.

"The point is that he was out of town," Norbert continued, "and then he suddenly reappeared back in the castle to fall out of the rafters and die."

"Fall out the rafters? What was he doing up in the rafters?"

"How should I know," Norbert exclaimed. "I don't live up in the castle."

The Doctor nodded realising that he was unlikely to learn any more about the zombie. He tapped his jacket lightly to make sure that the concoction he had prepared earlier (in case he needed to eject a poison from his system; and judging by the fog that looked to be a certainty) was still there. He was optimistic that the lingering bio-energy would be enough to protect him, but you never can be too careful. As they turned the corner Norbert froze in his tracks.

"That's him," he whispered.

"You don't have to whisper," the Doctor gently chided. "It won't be listening to what we have to say." Norbert apologised. "And how do you know it's him?"

"Who else would be out at this time of night?" Norbert asked rhetorically.

"Fair point," the Doctor nodded.

"And I would recognise him anywhere," he continued. "His shuffling walk, the limp arms and crooked neck. Exactly the same as the very first time I saw him."

The Doctor rubbed his hands together with glee. "Come on then." He made his way towards the shuffling zombie.

"What? You're going to confront it?" Norbert exclaimed.

"Yeah," the Doctor replied as if that were obvious.

"Are you mad?"

The Doctor thought about this for a second. "Yes, I suppose I must be. Look how am I going to learn anything about it if I don't go up and talk to him."

"Alright then," Norbert said. "You go and talk to him, see where that gets you. I will be staying here."

"Yes, good idea," the Doctor clapped him on the back. "You can have your bow ready in case something goes wrong."

"My bow?"

"Yes that thing you threatened me with when you found me treating Bro... The girl," the Doctor nodded.

"I left it at my house," Norbert responded.

"Well what's it doing there?"

"I didn't think that I would be needing it in a stroll through the streets of my home town. I only use it for hunting," Norbert explained.

"Even after I specifically told you to bring it?"

"Did you say that?"

The Doctor thought about this for a moment. "No, probably not," he shook his head. "You'll just have to throw rocks or something."

The Doctor strolled purposefully towards the zombie grinning as if it were a long lost friend. The zombie paid him no heed, it simply continued to lumber at its normal pace.

"Hello there," the Doctor said in a friendly voice. "How have you been?" The zombie stopped in its tracks. "I hear you have been causing a bit of trouble around these parts."

Norbert stared in shock and wonder as the Doctor walked forwards and began chatting to the evil creature as if it were a naughty child. This man either had a death wish or he was blindly optimistic. Yet the confident nature of his swagger suggested that he did indeed know what he was doing; and would succeed in whatever he was planning.

"You see the people who live here find you a little scary," the Doctor continued. "I cannot imagine why, but most people have indeed ran away. This is not your fault, but your spraying of this disease filled mist is a slightly different matter. I mean how would you like it if someone came down to your planet and started spreading an illness that you had no resistance to, what if someone was causing all your friends to die horribly. I certainly wouldn't enjoy it, which is why I am telling you to leave this instant, or I will make you leave; and you certainly don't want me to do that. The choice is yours."

The zombie paused and stared at the Doctor impassively. It then opened its mouth and exhaled its toxic breath right in his face.

"Point taken," the Doctor said as he keeled over backwards.

Norbert watched, frozen in terror, as the zombie continued on its way down the street; ignoring the fallen body of the Doctor. He put his palms together and began to pray desperately, like he had done so many times since the zombie had appeared; it didn't occur to him that the zombie would now be coming to get him. There was a golden flash the made him open his eyes. The zombie had also turned to the source of the sudden light.

The Doctor stood up shakily, breathing out more of the bio-energy that had saved his life. "Thank pulsar for that," he muttered. "I wasn't sure the regeneration would save me that time." Louder he added: "you see I am not susceptible to your breath like these apes are."

The zombie simply went up to him and punched him in the face. The Doctor had to roll aside quickly to avoid the stomp that followed it. Considering it was supposedly made up of rotting flesh it was surprisingly strong. A rock bounced off its head. It turned and recoiled as another one hit. Norbert quickly picked up another and hurled it as the zombie began to advance on him. The third rock hit it on the side of the face just as it was about to unleash another spray of its breath, causing it to be sprayed randomly.

The Doctor jumped to his feet. "I say we run," he shouted. Norbert nodded in agreement and they fled in opposite directions.

The zombie twisted in both directions, unsure who to follow. It gave up and proceeded to continue its nightly wander through the streets, randomly exhaling its lethal breath. This night as it wandered it took the time to think. Think about what had just occurred. No one had ever dared to confront it, not since the first night. And that strange energy signal seemed familiar, as if he had encountered something like that before. But he knew that was impossible, they were all dead now. Well clearly not all of them. Apparently the Informant wasn't the last one after all.

* * *

><p>Norbert arrived back at the house first. He ripped the scarf from his face and panted heavily. His wife came over with a look of concern on her face.<p>

"What happened?" she asked.

"The Doctor is mad!" he declared. "Went up to the creature and tried to talk to it as if it were a human."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know, we got separated," he complained. "When he said he wanted to see the creature I thought he only wanted to see it, not go up and invite it round for dinner."

"Well actually I was telling him to get off this planet, I don't think inviting it round for dinner would have really helped us in any way," Norbert jumped out of his skin when the Doctor said this. He gave the peasants knowing smiles. "The creature is clearly not going to play nicely with us. The thing to do is investigate thoroughly tomorrow in preparation for its appearance tomorrow night. Find out as much as we can about the man who died. Go up to the castle and find out what he was doing up in those rafters, maybe find some resentment that has been passed onto the corpse."

"I'm not following you Doctor," Norbert said.

The Doctor sighed. That was the trouble with befriending peasants from the distant past, they were not often very bright and struggled to keep up with his fast paced mind. "The zombie will not appear until the night. We should take advantage of the daylight hours to learn as much as we can about it and the man who lived before. You yourself have wondered why he was up in those rafters when he should have been in Abberwick. Once we work out all the details, I will be able to put a stop to it. Alnwick will be free once more."

"Are all doctor's like this?" Norbert wondered.

"Just me I think," the Doctor grinned.

"What is going on?"

They all turned to the soft voice and flinched in shock. In the doorway to the bedroom stood Broxa, completely naked apart from her ragged shorts. It is normally the case that females in this situation have their long hair conveniently falling in front of her breast, obscuring them from view. This hadn't happened this time, much to everyone's (apart from Broxa's) distress.

"Go back to bed, Broxanna," Mrs. Joiner said. "You'll not do your ankle any good."

"How can I remain in there when all the excitement is in here?" the cannibal demanded. "And if I remember rightly, it is good to put some weight on an injured foot, otherwise it will stiffen up."

"She's right about that," the Doctor chimed in. "how is the ankle by the way?"

"Still aches a bit," Broxa confided. "But a lot better than before."

"Well then, if Mrs. Joiner can find some clothes for you, you can come with us tomorrow," the Doctor decided.

She pulled a face but nodded. "Alright, so long as it is something cool. I shall boil otherwise." She turned and disappeared back into the bedroom, limping every few steps.

"Is that wise?" Norbert murmured, "bringing the girl with us."

"I doubt we shall be doing anything particularly dangerous," the Doctor replied. "The zombie only comes out at night after all."

"Yes, but what about its breath that lingers in the air?"

"She's a tough girl," the Doctor assured him. "She'll be fine." And that was end of that.


	22. Corpse 3

Chapter 3

Even during the day the mist was thick and vision obscuring. The Doctor strode through quickly, not wanting to leave Broxa vulnerable to its disease for too long, despite his lack of concern the previous night. Broxa followed, just about keeping up with him. Mrs. Joiner had found her a simple dress to wear. It was brown and patchy, with short sleeves. It was slightly too long for her and had been pinned up at the bottom to compensate, making her bare feet visible. She had been offered shoes, but after several shaky steps in them they had been discarded; they had been too big and Broxa preferred to feel the soft ground under her feet.

She paused and leaned against a nearby house as another spike of pain shot through her ankle. The Doctor stopped to and regarded her with a neutral expression. "Perhaps I should have given you a crutch," he said.

"No I'm fine," she gasped. "It will subside in a minute."

The Doctor nodded. "What is all that Broxanna stuff about?" he asked in interest. "Trying to make yourself sound more sophisticated?"

Broxa looked at him, not fully understanding. "That is my name," she said.

"But everyone called you Broxa on Mondas," he countered.

"Yeah that is the shortened form of my name," she responded, pulling herself upright and continuing down the path. "Kayvon was very fond of shortening people's names whether they wanted you to do so or not."

"So would you prefer it if I started calling you Broxanna then?"

"No I don't mind really," she shook her head. "You can use any form of my name you like, so long as you don't call me Broxy or Anna. It just seems natural to introduce myself as Broxanna rather than Broxa."

"Are there any other diminutives?" the Doctor wondered.

"One of my friends was known as Rox, her name was Broxanna too," She nodded. "We can't be the only planet that does it though, I assume that Lisa is a shortening as well."

The Doctor paused to think about this. "It might be," he said. "She never indicated that she had a longer version, but could easily have been an Elizabeth for all I knew."

"And you, what do people call you when they get familiar with you?"

"Just the Doctor," he replied. "I was called Doc once, but I would prefer if you didn't follow his example. Many people used to call me Theta."

"Is that your real name?" Broxa questioned.

"No, just another pseudonym," he shook his head. "My people don't tell each other their true names. Theta is what I called myself when I was a student, upon graduating I named myself the Doctor, to indicate my desire to go out and 'make people better' as it were. Mortimus became the Monk for less obvious reasons, possibly his feelings of holiness, a desire to pray, or change others beliefs; which considering he ended up going around the universe meddling with time suggests that that last one may not be far away. Magnus became the War Chief, no one but him knows where that came from, but I bet you can work out why Koschei decided to call himself the Master. Our names reflect who we really are."

"Broxanna means cave of random objects," Broxa reflected. "That's the problem with a parent choosing their child's name for them I suppose."

"That is a strange meaning in itself," the Doctor commented.

"So people only ever call you the Doctor or Theta then?"

"No I often get loaded with other names," he shook his head. "One family insisted on calling me the Caretaker, though considering I was acting as their caretaker at the time that was fair. You can continue calling me the Doctor though, seeing as I get to continue calling you Broxa."

"Fair enough," she nodded.

"Well that was very good, wasn't it?" the Doctor continued. "I managed to resist explaining to you all the names that have been used over the centuries. I'm really getting the hang of this holding back on my ranting business. I didn't explain how I'm often called Get by people, as in Get Off This Planet or Get That Bastard. Wow I'm calming down, before I would have almost certainly told you that, along with why snooker is such an underrated sport. It's so clever, all angles and getting the cue ball to curve around the table so that it is in line for the next shot..."

The Doctor continued yammering on randomly as the castle gate came into view. Broxa raised her eyebrows but did nothing to stop him, unlike Lisa she was not so irritated by his ability for talk so exuberantly. In fact she almost admired that personality trait, she herself a great player in the manipulation of others through words. _Yes well done Doctor,_ she thought sarcastically, _you managed to resist talking so well_.

* * *

><p>"I went down to see him as soon as I was told that death was not far away," the priest said.<p>

"So you were too late?" The Doctor asked. Upon entering the castle they had quickly determined that the priest who had failed to perform the last rites was the first one to see, as he was least likely to be put off by visitors; and it would be a good opportunity to teach Broxa about religion. They were now in the priest's private chambers, the Doctor stood opposite the priest at the front of the room while Broxa closely examined the silver candle sticks.

"No," the priest replied, "he was still alive when I got to him. But he was incoherent from the damage to his head and refused to take them. I returned the following morning but he was already dead by then."

"When you say incoherent you mean..." The Doctor supplied.

"Constantly complaining about an adulterous whore, saying that his wife was having an affair," the priest explained.

The Doctor became more interested upon hearing this fact. "His wife was having an affair?"

"No, that was just his head injury that was making him think that," the priest dismissed. "She was the one to find him, and was constantly coming to me before and after his demise, asking me to pray for him."

"And what good would that have done?"

The priest whipped round in shock. "I have a connection with God," he exclaimed. "I pray to the almighty father and he will listen to me and help those in dire need. And put that down. It's silver, very valuable."

Broxa, unimpressed by the devout speech, casually placed the candlestick down beside its brother. "What is it with you people and material wealth?" she muttered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I mean," Broxa said, unfazed, "if you are lost in land with no light and no heat, the plants are dead, there are no animals in sight, and all you have is a lump of silver, what do you do then?"

The priest was slightly taken aback by venom that accompanied the question. "Pray," he said weakly.

"Pray," she replied with contempt.

"What else can you do," he pleaded. "You have to place yourself in God's hands."

She blinked a few times and then turned away. "Interesting philosophy, eh," the Doctor commented.

"Yes I do see the logic of her argument," the priest said, watching her carefully. "Those candlesticks aren't really mine you understand, they're the church's."

"Yeah yeah," she said in a tone that suggested that she didn't believe him.

"Is that everything Doctor?" The priest asked hurriedly.

"Just one more thing," he replied, seemingly oblivious to the priest's discomfort. "Do you have any idea what he was doing in the rafters that he fell from?"

"I do not know," the priest replied. "I did wonder that myself."

The Doctor nodded. "Very well, I think we have taken up enough of your time. Come on Broxa."

Broxa turned away from her deep scrutiny of the crucifix and followed him out the door. The priest was left to ponder on what that girl had said and suddenly found himself questioning himself.

* * *

><p>The next person they needed to find was the widow. The Doctor seemed to think that her account was more important than any of the man's friends, who would have seen him a lot more often. But as the Doctor pointed out, she was the one who found him after he fell. She was proving much harder to locate than the priest had been, for obvious reasons, but they were eventually able to track her to the Lord's bedchamber.<p>

The Lord had been bedridden for days, suffering from the disease spread by the corpse breath. His skin was tight across his face and there several unsightly blotches on his skin. The widow held a plate of food for him, but he was too ill to accept. The Doctor looked at him closely.

"The Terileptils would have had me believe that they synthesised the plague themselves," he commented, "but it is clear to me now that it is the zombie that brought it here, and they simply helped the remnants of the disease to multiply once more. Explains why it died down and then suddenly re-emerged in the Stuart era. Also helps to narrow down what our zombie really is."

He left the chamber, beckoning the woman to follow with her rejected plate of food. He casually took the plate and gave it to Broxa before beginning his questioning. She eyed each piece of food suspiciously before taking tentative tastes; like she had done with the soup.

"I understand that you were the wife of the man that is now haunting the town as an undead," the Doctor said dragging her attention away from his companion.

"Yes," she nodded. "I was deeply saddened by his death."

"I'm slightly hazy on the details," the Doctor said vaguely. "I gather that he fell on something."

"Out of the rafters Doctor," Broxa chimed in. "The bloke who decorated his room with dead bodies told us that."

The Doctor sighed inwardly. Perhaps he should have explained that he was going to feign ignorance to get her to open up, but he had assumed that Broxa would have realised that. "Yes that's right," the Doctor said without missing a beat. "Could you give us more details, we don't know much other than that."

"And he was supposedly in Abberwick at the time," Broxa added, spraying half chewed bread as she spoke.

"Well I don't know what else I can tell you," the widow said. "I was just err talking to William when he suddenly fell out of the rafters. I rushed straight over to him, discovered he was grievously injured and called for him to be taken to the doctor. He died the next morning."

"The priest says he refused to take the last rites," the Doctor commented.

"Yes, that is why he came back," she nodded, as if to confirm that there was no _other_ reason that he could have returned.

"What was he like?" the Doctor asked.

The widow sighed. "He was very kind and generous, always willing to help others. Horribly unlucky though, ill-fortune seemed to surround him like a demon. His previous masters all fell under great hardships while he was serving under them, he himself came to Alnwick with no possessions to speak of because they had all been taken by all the robbers that he had encountered on the way."

"And then he fell out of the rafters for no apparent reason," the Doctor finished. He studied her face carefully. "Yes I think I am beginning to get an idea as to the circumstances of his death and resurrection."

There was crash from behind, making them both whip their heads round. Broxa had dropped the plate of food and was staring at something across the courtyard. "Still shell-shocked," the Doctor commented. "No doubt saw some image to remind her of the adder that bit her. I shall not take up any more of your time."

He allowed the widow to disappear before stepping towards the stricken girl. He exhaled bio-energy like cigarette smoke before speaking to her. "What's up?" he asked. "And don't say nothing, you may be a good liar but I am even better at spotting lies."

"We should check the burial site," Broxa replied.

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows. "What makes you say that?" he inquired

She glanced across the courtyard. "I don't know," she said. "I just have this feeling that that is what we should do."

The Doctor followed her gaze and focused on what she was looking at. There was nothing there. nothing out of the ordinary at least. He grinned in understanding. "Of course, why wouldn't they be here," he muttered. Then he started to sing.

"Hello darkness, my old friend  
>I've come to talk with you again<br>Because a vision softly creeping  
>Left its seeds while I was sleeping<br>And the vision that was planted in my brain  
>Still remains<br>Within the sound of silence"

"What happened Doctor?" Broxa asked pleadingly. "One minute I was walking behind you, the next minute I had stopped and you were several paces in front."

The Doctor ceased his singing and looked at her dumbfounded. "What did you say?" he exclaimed.

"Something has manipulated my memory," she said in panic. "There is a gap that shouldn't be there."

"You can tell that something has been wiped from your memory?" the Doctor questioned, still struggling to believe it.

"Of course I can!" she shouted. "It's my mind! There is a definite gap in my recent memory that shouldn't be there, especially as it only happened a few seconds ago." The Doctor suddenly burst into fits of laughter. "And what is so funny?"

The Doctor tried to stop, it really wasn't that funny, but couldn't seem to. Broxa snarled, stepped forwards and grasped his balls in her left hand; squeezing painfully. The Doctor screamed a couple of times and gave her a look that told her that he was not going to laugh at her again in a hurry. She loosened her grip.

"I'm sorry," he moaned. "That sort of thing happens to people all the time, but they just dismiss, or don't even notice it. You managed to spot it, not something I have ever seen before, and I am impressed. I found your distress at the idea of your mind being manipulated slightly amusing , along with the idea that you were instantly suspicious, and some of the bio-energy bubbling in my system heightened this amusement to uncontrollable laughter."

She nodded but gave the impression that she still wasn't impressed in the slightest. "What happened?" she asked.

"You saw something and then upon looking away you forgot," the Doctor responded, unhelpfully. "There is nothing I can do to stop this from happening, I suppose the best thing to do is to take this notepad and this pen. Should you come across this sensation again, open it up and you should find that everything you have forgotten has been written down there; provided you actually write it, if you understand what I am trying to tell you."

She stowed the notepad and pen in the pocket of her skirt, unconvinced. "What now then?" she asked.

"I think we should follow your suggestion and take a look at his grave," the Doctor said. "I think it is certain that we shall find more answers there."

He turned and strode in the direction of the graveyard, coming to a halt when he heard the stifled scream behind him. Broxa pulled herself onto her bottom, hitched the skirt up and proceeded to rip the end with the help of her teeth. Once she was done she stood up and walked past the Doctor who was busy admiring her ingenuity. The skirt was still quite long, but it no longer covered her ankles and it was unlikely she would trip over it again.

* * *

><p>The grave was like so many others. A mound of earth, roughly the length a man with a simple cross at the head; he had been too poor for a proper headstone. Placed on top was a bunch of flowers, slightly withered from time but otherwise untouched.<p>

"Looks as if you were right," the Doctor commented.

"About what?" Broxa asked in confusion.

"Checking on the grave," the Doctor explained. "We now know the true nature of the zombie."

"We do?"

"That's right."

Broxa looked at the grave again to see if she had missed anything, but found nothing of note. "I don't see anything," she said. "It looks untouched."

"Exactly," he enthused. "Don't you see what this means?"

"No," she replied.

The Doctor grinned, glad to have permission to explain the evidence fully. "The Christian religion teaches the idea that after death you will rise again at the end of days. The modern idea, that of the 20th/21st century, is that your soul is the part that lives on while your body remains at rest. The current belief is that it is your body that rises with the soul. On your death bed you are supposed to take the last rites as this will keep your body at rest and prevent it from rising prematurely until judgement day. The man who fell from the rafters did not take the last rites so his body is rising from the grave every night to haunt the town and take revenge on the living. Yet if you look at the grave you can see that it has not been disturbed, therefore he has not been rising every night to seek revenge on the living. This is an alien, taking advantage of the legend."

"To invade?"

"Possibly," he agreed, "though that isn't the only reason aliens come to this planet. You and I are proof of that."

"So what do we do then?" Broxa asked.

"I will return to the TARDIS," the Doctor said, "see if I can learn exactly what it is, you should return to Norbert's house and rest your ankle a bit."

Broxa pulled a face but agreed. The Doctor dropped her back at the house before making his way back into the forest to find the TARDIS.


	23. Corpse 4: Revenge

Corpse 4: Revenge of the Craxas

It was not difficult to find the TARDIS again, all the Doctor needed to do was retrace the steps he had taken the previous day with Norbert; as well as following the psychic signal. He grinned at the chaos that had been created by the bumpy landing and his crude modifications. Wires, pipes and loose cogs were strewn all around the console room. He tapped a few buttons on the console and a spring fired off at random. He sniggered, then started singing.

"Welcome to the house of fun, now I've come of age  
>Welcome to the house of fun.<br>Welcome to the lion's den, temptation's on its way  
>Welcome to the house of fun."<p>

He continued to project the song around the confines of the console room as he flicked a few switches and pulled on a lever. The Samsung LCD TV screen that had been erected on the wall flickered into life, the Doctor gave a cry of triumph and ceased singing. He concentrated carefully, locking onto the signal. He slowly twisted a knob and the static slowly cleared to reveal a picture on the screen. His triumphant smile disappeared when he realised what the screen was showing.

"Tinky Winky, Tinky Winky!  
>Dipsy, Dipsy!<br>Laa-Laa, Laa-Laa!  
>Po, Po!<br>Teletubbies, Teletubbies!  
>Say hello,<br>Eh-oh!"

He began twiddling with the knob once more in an attempt to find the correct signal.

"It's alright, it's ok. Doesn't really matter if... I am Locutus of Borg... Ed Milliband has denied claims that he has been a disaster from the start, this comes from... yes apparently the Australian prime minister didn't bow to the Queen... the real question is, what do you actually do?... but that is incorrect because you aren't a boy... times up you only banked twenty pounds... in injection moulding the polymer is fed-"

"Ooh, that looks quite interesting actually," the Doctor continued to watch the Australian documentary on manufacturing polymers for a few minutes before slapping himself back to reality. "No I must concentrate, I need to find that alien ship. Ah, that looks more like it."

"Lord Vader, we are approaching the rebel base now. The shield generator shall be destroyed-"

"Perhaps using an old telly wasn't such a good idea after all," the Doctor muttered. He picked up a wooden mallet that was hanging beside the console. It hadn't been used in such a long time that cobwebs had formed all over it.

"What is this?" the Doctor exclaimed upon realising this. "A stowaway!" all thoughts of contacting the zombie were completely forgotten as he stooped down to track the movements of this spider. It didn't take him long to find the creature cowering behind the screen.

"What are you doing in here?" he queried. "You won't find anything to eat in here. How did you get in actually? Oh and I suppose you feel the need to explore every strange thing that lands in the forest I suppose. Go on, get out and you had better not have any friends in here with you. No of course you don't have any friends, you're a spider, how silly of me." he ever so carefully plucked the spider out of the wires. Its legs flailed futilely as he casually carried it to the doors, it was gently placed on the ground and fled into the forest.

The Doctor closed the door once more, making sure that no more creepy crawlies decided to make their homes inside the TARDIS. Now he needed to get back to trying to locate the zombie. It was lucky that he had found the spider when he had, who knew what sort of damage it would have done if it had had the chance to settle down and create a family. He froze as this very thought crossed his mind. No surely he would have realised, besides why would any creatures want to enter the TARDIS, surely they would have sensed the alien technology and the time vortex, they would have been careful to avoid it. Yet there been many humanoid creatures who had entered the TARDIS regardless, and there was that spider as well.

He frantically ordered the TARDIS to perform a life sign scan, to check that there wasn't anything that had made its way into the TARDIS without his knowledge. Pacing up and down he prayed that this sudden fear was completely unfounded.

"What is it that you want, Time Lord?" the Doctor whipped round in shock. It was a relief to discover that the voice was only coming from the screen; it was finally working as intended.

The Doctor grinned up at the zombie's face, for that was who was talking to him. "I was hoping for a little chat that wouldn't be interrupted by you attacking me. Seeing as you know that I am a Time Lord you must know that my threats were not idle, I will stop you if you don't agree to leave on your own accord," he said.

"If the last Time Lord I met is anything to go by I doubt you have anything that will stop me," the zombie replied.

"Last Time Lord you met?" the Doctor repeated.

"Called himself the Informant," the zombie clarified. "Spent most of the time complaining of pains in his chest and breathing out golden substance that you exhaled after I breathed on you."

"Must have recently regenerated," the Doctor commented. "How is it that I am only just hearing about him now that he is dead? Must have masked himself from me somehow, didn't want to meet up with me for fear of fulfilling his prophecy."

"So you are the last of your kind, like I am the last of mine," the zombie said softly.

"Apparently so," the Doctor nodded. "But what are you exactly? A creature that breaths out disease and takes on the guise of those that were wronged when they died. I initially thought you were just possessing the body of that poor man, but it is clear that that is not the case as you are too strong and his grave is completely undisturbed. No you are some kind of psychic creature feeding off the injustice of the man's death. The natives led me to believe that it was the lack of last rites that was the most important thing, but I think that that is merely a coincidence. I think that jelly beans are a very overrated snack, if you want a sweetie that is really tasty you should have something like a fruit pastel or a jelly baby."

"You are right on most counts," the zombie said. "I came into being, merely to bring justice for the man's death. I have come to bring vengeance on the people of Alnwick, for their refusal to realise that it was the wife that caused him to fall."

"She was having an affair wasn't she," the Doctor shouted in enthusiasm. "He became suspicious, didn't he, pretended to leave for Abberwick on some work so that he could catch her in the act. And he did, only he then fell from the rafters and nobody would believe him, he had just fallen from the rafters after all. And he wouldn't take the last rites because he wanted justice, so when he didn't get it you came into being. You are the Craxas!"

The corners of the impassive zombie face twitched ever so slightly. "You are certainly a clever species," the Craxas said. "You must now realise that there is nothing you can do to stop me. I will not return to my non-corporeal self until I have completed my purpose. You cannot stop the revenge of the Craxas."

"That should be vengeance," the Doctor corrected. "It would be revenge if you were doing this in response to a wrong enacted on you personally but as it is the man that requires the justice it should be vengeance. Am I right in thinking that your mission is to cause the death of the widow?"

"To punish the entire town for being blind," the Craxas clarified. "My purpose will be done once she dies, but it is also my duty to make sure that they suffer as well."

"Look I understand your mission," the Doctor said, "but you do need to stop now. It can't really be everyone's fault that this man's wife had an affair so you are punishing innocents. The Disease you have spread to this town will not remain in Alnwick forever, it will spread across Europe, killing millions. If you continue the plague will become too strong, none of the humans will be able to survive. You will cause a mass extinction of all the humans on this planet. You will be murdering an entire planet just to bring one person to justice."

"It means nothing to me," the Craxas dismissed. "Humans are far from innocent. They go around carrying misery and destruction in their wake, the rich bullying the weak so that the they can enjoy their greedy existence. They have little justice without me."

"Yes there are parts of society that take advantage of others yes," the Doctor agreed. "But that isn't a reason to damn an entire species."

"Then kill the widow," the Craxas sneered. "Or bring her into town after the sun sets and I shall end it all."

"No," the Doctor shook his head. "She is far from innocent but there are much better ways to deal with those who have done wrong. I will not become an executioner, not again."

"Then you had better not get in my way, Time Lord," the Craxas threatened, "or I shall kill you too. your life can hardly have been purely innocent."

"As a matter of fact," he grinned, "I have an entire guild of assassins trying to do that. You are pitiful compared to some of them."

"But they are a different kind of being to me," the Craxas said. "They need to feed, breath and are privy to emotions and injury. There is nothing you can do to stop me. The only way is to allow me to complete my purpose."

"No there is a way to defeat you, otherwise you wouldn't be the last of your kind. Don't worry, I will find out what your weakness is, and if you don't leave, I will exploit it." He cut the signal before it could reply.

_I don't have much time_, the Doctor thought, _I need to get back to Alnwick and devise a plan._ He rushed from the TARDIS slamming it shut and locking it. In his hurry to get back to the town he completely forgot to check the results of the life sign scan...

* * *

><p>Broxa and Mrs. Joiner were sat in the kitchen when the Doctor returned. Broxa was eating again whilst Mrs. Joiner struggled to have a conversation with her. Upon noticing the Doctor Broxa ceased in her gobbling and looked up at him.<p>

"Well," she said.

The Doctor seemed to ignore her, looking at Mrs. Joiner instead. "Where is Norbert," he asked.

"In the workshop," she replied.

"Could you go and get him," he said. "He needs to hear this too."

Once they were all seated around the table the Doctor explained what he had learnt. They were all silent while he spoke, the only sounds they made were gasps of surprise. There was silence for a few moments after he was done.

"That explains everything," Norbert said at last. "He never really went to Abberwick, that was a ruse to allow him to catch his wife in the act."

The Doctor nodded. "He is going to come for her tonight," he said. "It is up to us to stop him, tonight."

"Why?"

"What did you say?" the Doctor turned to his companion in shock.

"Well if he is just after her, wouldn't it be easier to let him have her and then he will just disappear," she explained. "Problem solved, we wouldn't have to do anything."

"You would allow the murder of this woman?" Mrs. Joiner said in surprise.

"If it means saving everyone else," Broxa shrugged.

The Doctor stared at her impassively for a moment, the gaze was so penetrating that Broxa squirmed slightly under it. "I will forgive you this time, considering your upbringing," he said levelly. "I should remind you that we are not on Mondas anymore, survival is not the primary part of life. She was cruel to him yes, but she didn't kill him and certainly wasn't glad when he died; if anything she was sadder than others. No, there will be a way to stop it, even it claims there is none, and we will find it."

"But what can we do, Doctor?" Norbert asked in despair.

The Doctor looked at him and grinned. "Encourage one another, and build one another up."

The Joiner looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"Encourage one another, and build one another up," the Doctor continued.

"Is this really the time to be singing songs?"

Broxa smirked in amusement. "The Doctor always finds the time to sing songs," she said. "It helps him get through the hard times I think."

"Build, build, build, build build."

"Maybe so, but I think that we should concentrate on solving the problem at hand," Norbert said. "It is like when I have a difficult joint to construct. I could stand about singing to keep my spirits up, but that won't get the job done; and I would upset the neighbours as I am tone deaf. It is better to get down and do it, otherwise the problem will continue to haunt you."

"Oh alright," the Doctor stopped abruptly. "Here's what we will do..."

* * *

><p>The Doctor leant against the wall of the house nearest to the castle gates. He knew that the Craxas would be coming along any moment, and when it did he would be ready for it. Or that was the plan at least. Now that he was leaning against this wall he discovered that he was incredibly tired. Lack of sleep and his incomplete regeneration were conspiring against him, weighing him down with fatigue. He struggled to keep his eyes open, he needed to be awake and aware, but he was fighting a losing battle. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a few seconds.<p>

"So this is what I become." His eyes whipped open at the sound of that familiar voice. A voice he hadn't heard in almost three thousand years. He turned his head and stared at the figure in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" he exclaimed. The figure that now stood in front of him was an old man, wearing a dark jacket and tweed trousers. His silver hair was neatly combed back over the top of his head and down to his shoulders. It was his first incarnation as he appeared in his later years. The Doctor stared into First's twinkling eyes and marvelled at how young they looked. "And why do I never see you in your earlier years?"

The First Doctor smiled knowingly and pulled a pipe out from his pocket. "It wasn't until my body had grown old that I grew to truly care for people other than my own family. If you had seen me in my prime I would not have anything useful to say to you, I would have selfishly told you to work everything out for yourself. It was Ian who taught me to be a hero." He lit the pipe and smoked it sophisticatedly. "As for your other question, I am not here. This is a dream."

"Well how come I have never dreamt anything like this before?" the Doctor questioned.

"Because you have never needed me in this way before," First explained.

"Sundew," the Doctor said in realisation. "You're here to tell me who has sent them after me!"

"Of course not!" First replied gruffly. "This is a dream, I can only tell you things that you already know."

The Doctor frowned. "What's the use of that?" he exclaimed. "If I already know everything you have to tell me, how is that going to help me?"

The First Doctor sighed. "I don't just know the things you know," he explained, "I also know the things that you know but don't know that you know."

"My subconscious thoughts," the Doctor realised.

"Correct."

"So what are you here to make me remember?" the Doctor asked. "Is it to do with Sundew or is it the Craxas?"

"It is to do with Sundew's employer," First answered.

"But I you said-"

"I said I didn't know who the employer is," First interrupted. "But I do know why the employer has hired them now, as opposed to when the dandy was trapped on Earth with no working TARDIS."

"Actually he wasn't that vulnerable because he had UNIT to help him at that time, stars how far they have fallen since then. My most vulnerable was when the soldier had just ended the time war, leaving himself all alone and devastated by what he had done," the Doctor chimed in.

"Don't interrupt!" First shouted. He calmed quickly before continuing. "The reason the assassins are after you now rather than any earlier is because of the regeneration that you are on."

"So you know which incarnation I am," the Doctor exclaimed. "I have been wondering. What number am I?"

"I won't tell you directly," First said. "I think it is better that you work this one out for yourself, it will be more significant this way."

"Oh thanks," the Doctor replied sarcastically. "You are being very helpful."

"Besides," the First Doctor continued as if he had not heard him, "while you have been standing here, chatting with me, the Craxas has already gone past."

The Doctor turned to him in shock. "What!" he exclaimed.

In an instant the First Doctor had disappeared and he could tell that he was in the real world once more. He panned his eyes left and right and eventually found the Craxas, a few metres down the road towards the castle. Just before he made his pursuit he heard a single thought in the back of his mind, spoken in the First Doctor's voice: _"The regeneration number is directly proportional to the pain, length and/or intensity of the regeneration."_

He silently thanked his original self before rushing after his current enemy with a shout. "Craxas!"

* * *

><p>"This doesn't feel right," Norbert complained.<p>

"It has to be done," Broxa responded.

Norbert looked down at the shovel in his hands. "But, dig up his grave?"

"If it wasn't important do you really think the Doctor would have asked us to do it?" She snarled rhetorically.

"Alright, alright," he held up his hands for calm. "I just don't like the disrespect we will be causing."

"Compared to the suffering that is being caused I think that is of little concern," Broxa replied. "Anyone who asks will realise that it was necessary to save the town."

"The Doctor is counting on us," Norbert agreed. He leant down and removed the wilted flowers from the grave. "God forgive us."

"Who?" Broxa queried. Norbert ignored her. He stuck his spade in the earth and proceeded to dig up the poor man's body. Broxa would have helped him, but knew that she would have only got in his way so instead went over to help Mrs. Joiner in constructing the massive pyre.

"You know," Broxa called over to him as she helped pile the wood. "Where the Doctor comes from it is an honour for the dead to be burnt. I guess it helps to release the spirit from its attachment to the land. Does that comfort you?"

Norbert smiled up at her. "Aye Broxanna, that causes me great comfort indeed."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: the scanner in its failed attempts to find the Craxas showed exerts from various television programmes, which were: the theme tune to New Tricks, Star Trek, a news exert (that probably hasn't occurred but is loosely based on news of one of Ed Milliband's supporters complaining about how disappointing he has been), Mock the Week, The Graham Norton Show, Castle, The Weakest Link, an Australian documentary that I was shown in a recent uni lecuture, and of course the Teletubbies theme and Star Wars. Just in case you were interested.<strong>


	24. Corpse 5: Extinction

**Author's note: final chapter of this part, thank you to those who reviewed the previous chapter it is much appreciated.**

* * *

><p><span>Corpse 5: Extinction<span>

"Craxas!" The Craxas turned at sound of the Doctor's shout. The Doctor slowed and came to a halt in front of the alien.

"So you are here, Time Lord," the Craxas scorned.

"Of course," the Doctor grinned.

"Come to stop me?" The Craxas asked, knowing full well what the answer was going to be.

"I am offering you one last chance," the Doctor replied. "Stop this madness. Return to your non-corporeal form and leave this planet alone, if you don't I will stop you; don't doubt that."

The corners of the Craxas' mouth twitched in amusement. "You are an arrogant creature," it purred, "to think that you can stop me with mere words."

"Not as arrogant as the one who thinks himself to be invincible," the Doctor countered.

"That is because I am invincible, Time Lord," the Craxas replied. "You cannot do anything to stop me."

"Of course I can," the Doctor replied. "You are tied to this form by something, and if I destroy that, it will in turn destroy you."

The Craxas cocked his head, scrutinising the Doctor carefully. "Maybe so, Time Lord," it said eventually. "But by the time you find it I will have completed my purpose anyway."

"And there is your mistake," the Doctor said triumphantly. "Believing me to be alone."

The Craxas faltered. "You are bluffing," it said hastily.

"If that is what you choose to believe," the Doctor shrugged. "The choice is yours, and you had better hurry as I don't know how near they are to finding it."

"That was a lie," the Craxas spotted triumphantly. It turned and continued on its way towards the entrance to the castle.

"Last chance," the Doctor shouted after it. It made no indication of any response. "Have it your way then."

He picked up a lump of wood that was lying nearby and, with a battle cry, charged at the Craxas.

* * *

><p>Norbert's shovel struck something that wasn't Earth. He threw it onto the grass and carefully uncovered what he had hit. It was the body, still wrapped in its shawl. With Broxa's help he levered it up out of the grave and rolled it onto the grass. Time underground had eaten away at the shawl, it was ripped and torn. It was in such a state of disrepair that the body rolled out of it. Norbert looked down on it and gasped in horror.<p>

"It's alive, it's alive!" he exclaimed.

Broxa looked down on it as well. It had swollen considerably since being buried, the face was all scrunched up as if in pain and the mouth was bubbling gently. It was this last detail that had led Norbert to believe that this corpse was still alive.

Broxa rolled her eyes. "That's just built up gases escaping," she explained. "Do you know nothing about how a body decomposes?"

"You use such strange words," Norbert replied, not understanding. "What now?"

"We burn it," Broxa said. "Destroy it just like the Doctor said."

Norbert nodded in agreement. His wife lit the pyre that had been completed by now, and they waited, praying that it would become hot enough before the creature could reach its target.

* * *

><p>The Doctor swung the block of wood down on the zombie's head. It broke in half sending splinters flying in all directions; the Craxas gave no indication of any pain. The Doctor looked down and the remains of his weapon in his hands as if he did not understand what had happened to it. The Craxas whipping round brought him back to his senses and he clamped his hand over his mouth and nose just in time to protect himself from the Corpse Breath.<p>

The Craxas took advantage of this to slog the Doctor in the head, he followed through with a stamp down on where the Doctor would have been had he not quickly rolled out of the way. The Doctor rolled back onto his feet and hit the Craxas with a punch of his own. It did absolutely nothing. The Craxas rounded on him and opened its mouth to unleash another burst of it lethal breath.

The Doctor swiftly clamped his hand over the mouth before it could be unleashed. "No, you will kill this planet," he said desperately. "Any more of your plague and even the Americas will feel it, and they don't technically exist yet."

The Craxas shoved him harshly in the stomach sending him flying backwards. He used the momentum to roll back onto his feet. "I don't care," it said harshly.

The Doctor charged forwards but suddenly stopped. He clutched his side where the pain had suddenly erupted. "No not now," he pleaded. "You haven't troubled me for days, why are you doing this now?"

The Craxas strode forwards and kicked him powerfully in the stomach. There was such force behind it that the Doctor went flying through the door of a nearby hut. There was a crash of broken pottery followed by a flash of golden light.

"Pitiful creatures," the Craxas sad in contempt and turned to stride back to the entrance to the castle.

The Doctor was not done yet though. That expulsion of energy had rejuvenated him and he was instantly at the door again. He removed his hat and aimed it like a Frisbee. "Oddjob eat your heart out," he commented before throwing it.

The hat flew about a metre in a straight line, then it was caught by the wind, shot up into the air and landed a couple of centimetres in front of his feet. He looked down at it with an expression usually reserved for someone who has just put petrol into a diesel. He tutted and picked it back up before charging at the Craxas once more.

The Craxas turned round and breathed out once more, the Doctor ducked and covered his mouth until it subsided. "Stop doing that!" he shouted. "Do you want to kill this planet."

"If it means bringing justice, yes," the Craxas replied indifferently.

"You may cause justice in one area," the Doctor reprimanded, "but you will cause mass injustice in others."

The Craxas stared back impassively but he could tell that his last comment had stung. "Enough!" it roared. "It is time to end this." With a roar it charged.

* * *

><p>The fire was burning brightly by now, they were almost ready to throw the body on. Broxa gazed into the fire, the flames illuminating in her eyes. They began to moisten slightly as she remembered that this was how she had said good-bye Lisa. They hadn't known one another for very long, but she had had a huge impact on her life.<p>

"You are doing it wrong," a voice by her ear said.

She whipped her head round and came face to face with an alien. It had a white bald head which shrunk into the neck, the chin was pointed and the mouth was a thin lipless line. The nose was completely squashed into the face, leaving an almost skeletal appearance, the black eyes were sunken and framed by protruding ridges. It was wearing a black suit and stood upright like a gentleman. It was one of the fearsome Silence.

"You!" Broxa exclaimed. "You were in the courtyard, you told me that we needed to check the grave and then I forgot everything."

"The Craxas will destroy the world," the Silent said. "You must destroy the heart."

"No, no, you are not doing this to me again," Broxa said angrily. "You give us help and then leave to have me look like a fool, when that is the only thing I remember."

The Silent cocked its head at her. "The heart is the key," it said, seemingly ignoring her torrent of anger. "Destroy the heart and you will destroy the Craxas."

"What is it Broxa?" Broxa turned her head to Norbert's voice and instantly forgot everything.

"We need to destroy the heart," she stated.

"What?" he said in confusion.

She snatched up the shovel and rolled the corpse onto its back. "We need to destroy his heart!" she said more harshly this time. She swung the shovel into the chest of the corpse ripping a hole in it.

"Why?" Norbert asked. "What is wrong with simply destroying the body? Why are you suddenly saying that?"

"I don't know!" she screamed. "Something is xessing around with my head, all I know is that we need to destroy the heart. Don't ask me why?"

Norbert gaped at her as she leant down and ripped the chest open. There was a hiss as a lot of trapped gas escaped from the gaping hole. "Well it makes some sort of sense," Norbert commented. "I mean the heart is the source of life isn't it? It must have all the power over the body."

"No that's the brain," Broxa commented as she stood up, the man's heart in her hand. She stared at almost hypnotised. Back on Mondas she had often eaten a heart fresh from a newly dead corpse, it was often the best bit. She remembered the sweetness of the tender muscle, the tang of the blood that trickled down her throat. She closed her eyes and slowly brought the heart towards her lips. Yes it had been sitting under ground for a long time, but that would surely bring out more flavour.

"Broxanna?" Norbert's alarmed shout brought her back to reality with a jolt. She hurriedly hurled the heart into the roaring fire, before she could be tempted again.

Almost as soon as the heart touched the flames a great change could be felt about the area. The mist that had haunted the town since the first appearance of the zombie slowly began to evaporate away.

* * *

><p>The Doctor was punched so hard in the gut that all his breath was forced out of his body. He doubled over and was unable to defend himself when the Craxas followed through with a haymaker to the head that sent him to the floor with birds circling his head.<p>

"You're finished now, Time Lord," the Craxas gloated. The Doctor could do nothing to respond, he was too dazed. The Craxas leant forwards and once more exhaled its lethal breath.

Initially it was exactly the same as before, spraying out of its mouth in a long white stream, but a few inches from the Doctor it suddenly dissipated. The Craxas, slightly surprised by this, tried again but found that it couldn't. It retched and spluttered but found itself completely unable to unleash its most deadly weapon. The Doctor sat up and stared with a look of relief, they had done it.

"What have you done?" the Craxas roared. "What have you done?"

"Me?" the Doctor croaked, climbing to his feet. "I was here the whole time, I can't have done anything."

The Craxas didn't seem to be listening. It stared in horror as its hands began to crumble to dust. "You have killed me, murderer!"

"If it means saving this planet, yes," the Doctor nodded, mirroring the Craxas' earlier statement.

The Craxas stared at him pleadingly as he collapsed to the ground. "Where is the justice in this?" it said weakly. "She is going away unpunished."

"She won't be unpunished," the Doctor assured it. "I will make sure that she feels the pain of these events every day."

The Craxas smiled for the first time. "Then justice is done," it said weakly, just before its head also crumbled to dust. The Craxas was dead.

* * *

><p>Norbert removed the scarf from across his face and took a deep lungful of clean air. Then he started to laugh, deliriously happy after the weeks they had suffered under the thumb of the creature. His wife didn't follow suit, instead crying loudly into the palms of her hands. Broxa only managed a small smile. She glanced longingly at the human flesh that was roasting on the great pyre, resisting every urge to pull it out and devour it. They all stopped, suddenly distracted by a noise that suddenly echoed around them.<p>

"What's that?" Norbert cried. "The Craxas."

"No," Broxa shook her head smiling, "it must be dead. The Doctor is singing."

* * *

><p>"Just a perfect day<br>Drink sangria in the park  
>And then later, when it gets dark<br>We go home

Just a perfect day  
>Feed animals in the zoo<br>Then later a movie, too  
>And then home."<p>

The Doctor sang softly at first, gently opening the gate into the main courtyard. As he strolled in he suddenly projected at full volume for the chorus.

"Oh, it's such a perfect day  
>I'm glad I spent it with you<br>Oh, such a perfect day  
>You just keep me hanging on<br>You just keep me hanging on."

People were starting to appear now, drawn by the sound of his singing. He ignored them, he was looking for someone specific.

"Just a perfect day  
>Problems all left alone<br>Weekenders on our own  
>It's such fun<p>

Just a perfect day  
>You made me forget myself<br>I thought I was someone else  
>Someone good."<p>

He marched down the corridor, ignoring all those he passed until he came to the room he was looking for. He burst in and sang at full volume again.

"Oh, it's such a perfect day  
>I'm glad I spent it with you<br>Oh, such a perfect day  
>You just keep me hanging on<br>You just keep me hanging on."

He apologised silently to those inside once he realised that the woman he was looking for wasn't actually in here and moon walked out again. It took a while, the sun was starting to appear on the horizon, but he eventually found her, staring up into the clear sky along with everyone else.

"It's such a perfect day," the Doctor remarked to her.

The widow turned to him with a smile. "The mist has gone," she said happily. "How?"

"The zombie is no more," the Doctor explained. She stared at him in surprise, after a minute she her face changed to one of relief. "Yes your secret died with him."

Her expression changed to horror now. "What do you mean?" she stammered.

"I mean that he won't tell anyone now," the Doctor replied. He paused so that his next statement could have the greatest effect. "About the affair."

She looked from side to side to make sure that no one had heard him. He continued regardless. "You see he knew," he said. "Or at least he suspected. That is why he lead everyone to believe he was going to be out of town for a few days, so he could catch you in the act. Yet when he discovered you he didn't reckon on your determination to retain your integrity. Who was it that dealt the blow that eventually killed him? You or William?"

"No!" she shouted, everyone turned and stared. She shifted uneasily until they lost interest. "That wasn't how it happened," she said, more quietly this time.

"Pray tell how did it happen then?" the Doctor replied cheerfully, as if they were friends discussing the plotline of a recent film.

"It was an accident," she said softly.

"You accidently hit him over the head with a poker?" the Doctor questioned in confusion.

"No one hit him over the head with anything!" she exclaimed. "He fell out of the rafters."

"In his anger over seeing you he forgot where he was and lost his footing," the Doctor summarised. "But of course you didn't go to him straight away. You continued your merry way, him riding you like a bicycle; or perhaps horse is a better simile for this period. Allowing him to be beyond help when you finally went to get help, knowing that no one would believe him and that he would die before the morning. Leaving you free to have it off with your true love."

"No, it wasn't like that," she asserted, eyes brimming with tears. "I loved him. I went straight over to him, and got help as soon as I could."

The Doctor was slightly taken aback by this. "You loved him?" he said incredulously. "Genuinely?"

She nodded. "And all he will ever think of me is an adulterous whore."

"Then what was the affair about?" the Doctor asked. "I don't understand."

She couldn't seem to bring herself to answer. The Doctor sighed and prepared to go for the jugular regardless. "Why do you think he came back?" he asked.

She looked at him confused. "Because he didn't take the last rites," she said it as if it were obvious.

"Actually, that was just a coincidence," the Doctor revealed. "The reason he came back was because of you. He came to seek his vengeance on you."

"But he is gone right?" she said hopefully. "He won't be coming back."

"No," the Doctor agreed. "I stopped him, because you don't deserve to die. And in doing so he was killing everybody else."

"But it's over," the widow said with conviction. "He can't hurt anyone anymore."

"Not directly," the Doctor agreed. "Whilst the mist is gone the disease that it was spreading is not, people are still suffering from it. And it won't just go away, it will spread from Alnwick like plague," he giggled at his own pun. "Eventually it will cover all of Europe, and will cause the deaths of millions."

"And it is all my fault," she finished. The Doctor nodded and turned to leave. He had not enjoyed that, but it had to be done.

* * *

><p>He was welcomed back into Norbert's house with open arms. There were suggestions that he should go into the castle and receive a reward from the Lord, but the Doctor insisted that he needed no reward; and, as he pointed out, it was Norbert who had saved the day, not him. He was eventually able to get away from their bounty of generosity, but only so long as he agreed to come and visit them should he ever come to Alnwick again. He and Broxa walked through the forest, back towards where the TARDIS was parked.<p>

"You're very quiet," the Doctor observed.

"It happened again," she said. "Something entered my mind and planted a suggestion in my head."

"Did you not write down the experience?"

Broxa held up the note pad, it appeared blank but under closer inspection you could see the impressions of something that had scratched into the surface of the paper. "That pen of yours didn't work," she said.

"Oh, perhaps I should have given you a pencil," the Doctor said. "Well I wouldn't worry about it, we are unlikely to meet any of them again."

"That's not what is worrying me," she said. "It told me that the heart was the key, so I removed it and almost ate it."

"You almost ate it?"

"The heart is normally the best bit," she said defensively. "But Norbert was watching me, as was Mrs. Joiner, with looks of horror. As if I was some kind of monster."

"Well you didn't eat it did you?" the Doctor reassured her. "You are resisting at least."

"But it was that creature who instigated it," Broxa pleaded. "It wanted me to eat it, it wanted me to revert to my cannibalistic ways."

"No, they wouldn't have known," the Doctor said firmly. "Their entire plan relied on the humans reaching the 20th century and trying to put a man on the moon. They knew that if we didn't stop the Craxas that the humans would not have reached that stage, they were trying to help us."

"What if it happens again?" she asked. "What if I cannot resist it."

The Doctor stopped and put his hands on her shoulders. "Mayor Broxanna," he said. "I have travelled with savages, robots, humans and three eyes aliens. They each had their different quirks and flaws that I needed to tame but I never turned any of them away, well maybe once but he was a careless twit. I don't care what you do, if you come across a dead human and feel the need to taste it for old time's sake I will not bat an eyelid, I will understand that there are certain parts of your culture that have to be carried out to keep you sane. If you decide to murder someone for the same reason I will drop you back on Mondas without a moment's hesitation, but I am certain that it won't come to that. I trust you to act the good person that you are."

She leaned forwards and hugged him tightly. "Thank you Doctor," she said genuinely.

"That's what friends are for," he said smiling.

She looked up into his eyes quizzically. "Friend? I've never had a friend before," she said softly.

He smiled warmly, ruffled the top of her head and continued on towards the TARDIS. They got a few metres from it when Broxa suddenly stopped.

"This is where I got bitten," she explained.

"You'll be fine," the Doctor assured her. "Just try not to move too quickly, and watch where you are stepping."

He had to wait at the door for several minutes while she picked her way through the undergrowth painfully slowly. "Just being careful like you said," she explained. "I don't want to get bitten again."

"You mean you are listening to me?" the Doctor said in surprise. "No one has ever listened to me on things like this before."

"Consider it my way of thanking you, friend," Broxa smiled at him. The Doctor smiled back and lead the way into the TARDIS. The door slammed shut and a few minutes later it slowly disappeared with its signature grating sound. The adder poked its head out of the undergrowth and stared incredulously at where the TARDIS had been only moments ago. It shrugged, or it would have if it could, and slithered off. None of the other animals were going to believe this.

* * *

><p><strong>End of Part Four<strong>

**Up next: Part Five, A Dynasty of Stowaways**

**In which the Doctor is shocked by the life signs scan results, and Broxa discovers the meaning of the word fear.**


	25. A Dynasty of Stowaways

**Part Five: A Dynasty of Stowaways**

The TARDIS hummed steadily with the central column rising and falling at a gentle rate. The Doctor was alone, having sent Broxa to explore the rooms that he had shown her previously. It was a good opportunity to allow her to become familiar with the overall layout of the TARDIS, as well as where all the most important rooms are without requiring his help. With her distracted he could finally return to his long postponed activity of updating the console room. He spread several apparently random materials across the floor and began sorting through them.

There were a lot of jobs that needed doing, several parts needed replacing and he wanted to replace some of the aging panels. Most of these were minor projects though, his sights were ultimately set on fixing that chameleon circuit. It wasn't that he was bored with the constant use of a police box, he liked that image for him, it was that he was coming to a point in his life where more and more people were becoming aware of it. It would be nice if he had the option to change the TARDIS's appearance should the need ever arise.

But as is often the case with those planning to knuckle down for some especially hard work, the Doctor found himself polishing the portholes first. Well they were dirty after all, it was one of the jobs that needed doing, he could fix the chameleon circuit later. It was while he was doing this that Broxa came back into the room. She was carrying a pile of clothes in either hand.

"You have some very strange klarb in that wardrobe room," she said. "All that fabric and torn clothes strewn around the place."

"Well you didn't think that I found a coat that looked exactly like this in there, did you?" the Doctor replied. He eyed the clothes that she was carrying and spied several familiar things. "Why have you brought all those in here?"

"These particular things stood out," she said, holding up two different jackets. One was quite long, made of several different coloured materials and appeared to fit a very large man, while the other was cream coloured, shorter in style and the right size for a rather short, yet slightly chubby man. "Neither of them seem to fit you, it's as if you have prepared for any sort of man walking in there in need of a new set of clothes."

"It's funny you should say that," the Doctor replied, for that was the exact purpose of the wardrobe room. "Used to wear those a lot, not for centuries mind."

She looked at them both in confusion. "But they don't fit you."

"Not anymore they don't," he agreed. Something else in the piles caught his eye, he rushed over to pick it up. It was a female Police officer's outfit, although the skirt was far too short for any conventional policewoman to ever wear on duty.

"And I don't see you ever wearing anything like that either," Broxa commented. "Don't see anyone wearing it actually, there doesn't seem to be anything to wear to cover your genetalia."

"This was Amy's," the Doctor said. "Poor Amy," he added distantly. "And Rory too."

Broxa noticed the pain in his eyes, most others would not have noticed, so decided not to press any further on that subject. "Where are we going this time?" she asked.

"Haven't decided yet," he replied instantly returning to his cheerful self. "Just letting her circle through the vortex so I can upgrade some components without it detrimentally affecting her."

"What are all these numbers?" she asked pointing to one of the monitors. The Doctor's head shot up, he hadn't ordered the TARDIS to do anything. Then he remembered the little stowaway he had discovered.

"Comet, I had forgotten about that," he cursed, rushing over to her side. His eyes quickly scanned over the readout and he cursed again.

"What is it?" Broxa asked.

"Stowaways, Broxa," the Doctor explained. "Hundreds of little stowaways."

"Stowaways? What are they?"

"Unwelcome passengers," the Doctor explained. "How can I have not noticed this before?"

"Is it a bad thing?" she asked, supposing that as he had only just discovered it there probably was no danger; they would have had plenty of time to cause trouble if they had wanted to.

"I don't know," the Doctor shrugged. "It may explain why the TARDIS stopped working properly. We had better go and find them." he grinned at his companion. "An adventure in the TARDIS, haven't had one of these for years." He sprinted off into the corridors, Broxa following close behind.

* * *

><p>Somewhere deep into the maze of the TARDIS corridors, in a room that has not been entered, something stirred. They crawled from their stationary positions, using their sixth sense to navigate in the darkness, towards the centre. They scuttled and shuffled and hitched rides on the backs of the more tolerant, or unaware, forever whispering, contacting one another telepathically. Soon they all knew.<p>

_The Doctor is coming._

They came to a stop awaiting the next collective decision. The Doctor would certainly throw them out, they were unwelcome guests. But this was their home, they had been here for generations and he would surely understand; he was merciful. These thoughts tumbled through their minds. Circling over and over, jumping from 'reason with him' to hide then back to reason again; total confusion enveloping the. And then one different thought pierced through this panic.

_We are numerous, we are strong. They are few, they are limited. We should not wait, we should act, we shall take the TARDIS._

This thought circulated through the masses weighing up the pros and cons. Why would they need the TARDIS, they had been safe here all this time. But the TARDIS can take them anywhere, bring forth more to join their ranks, create further subspecies. Yet the Doctor could do that for them, if he was willing to. Would he be willing though? They could enter other worlds, create a web of thoughts through time and space. Would they want more in their ranks? Would inferiors be welcome? They could become food. The weight of thoughts shifted, the balance slowly tipping in favour of this action. Soon it was decided. They would take action.

Despite only just deciding now that they would take an aggressive stance they had a plan. There was always a plan, always one that was thinking through a possible action for the future, be it a schemer plotting their movement through the ship when they needed to exit to pick up new foods or troops, or a harvester leeching information from the TARDIS databanks. There was always a plan and now they were ready to act upon it.

_We shall spread, we shall conquer. We shall befriend, we shall make enemies. None can predict us, we have it all planned. We speak with one voice but think with a thousand. We are the Dynasty._

* * *

><p>"Isn't this exciting," the Doctor said. "I don't think I have ever been in this part of the TARDIS before."<p>

The Broxa looked up and down the corridors. "But it all looks exactly the same," she said.

"Oh it may look the same," the Doctor scoffed, "but it feels different. All these unexplored rooms and corridors. Round that next bend we could find ourselves walking on the ceiling."

"Is that possible?" Broxa asked, raising her eyebrows in scepticism.

"I don't know," he replied happily. "Let's find out!"

They turned the corner and strolled down it. There was nothing remarkable about it, just the same metal floor and walls, with the occasional bronze arch. The Doctor suddenly stopped.

"What is it?" Broxa asked.

"Turn around, slowly," he said. She did as was instructed and was suitably bowled over by the sight. The archway that they had just passed though was orientated in the opposite direction to all the ones that they had passed through, despite it being completely normal when they had passed through it. The amazement didn't end there, as they peered though the arch they could see that the entire corridor beyond was also upside down. The lights that normally bulged out of the ceiling, bulged out of the floor that was now the colour of the ceiling. Doors were upside down.

"How?" Broxa questioned.

"That's the magic of the TARDIS," the Doctor smiled. He stared down the corridor carefully. "I wonder," he said. "Stay there."

He took several confident steps, walking back through the arch. He once again had that sensation that had prompted him to turn round in the first place and turned round. Broxa was gaping at him in shock. He realised that the corridor was now the correct way round once more.

"You're upside down," Broxa exclaimed.

"Well I never," he shouted back. "This part of the corridor flips when you walk through that arch, but walking back through re-orientates it. Most fascinating."

Broxa laughed as she twisted her head so that it seemed to be upside down from the Doctor's point of view. In all the hilarity, they did not know that they were being watched.

* * *

><p>Hundreds of tiny bodies threaded through holes in the walls and thin ducts. They carried out the plan with efficiency, moving in amongst the wires that threaded through the entire ship and carefully rearranging or cutting them like they had done so many times before. One sat on the ceiling of the corridor that the Doctor and Broxa were in, watching them closely. This was a perfect opportunity to split them up.<p>

The thoughts of the others were very distant, directly proportional to the actual distance from the other bodies, so it was harder for it to pass on its message. While it waited it took time to think, it was much easier to think when there weren't the thoughts of the others pulsing through. It wondered whether the doctor really was a threat, he certainly wasn't doing anything now. But it knew that they would take power regardless, they had collectively decided that. He distantly heard the confirmation from the others.

A wire was cut and another moved into its position. They all felt the thrum as the TARDIS performed a lockdown to compensate. That phase of the plan was complete. The ones who could hear the thought from those that remained in their home took it up as well, like a battle cry.

_We shall spread, we shall conquer. We shall befriend, we shall make enemies. None can predict us, we have it all planned. We speak with one voice but think with a thousand. We are the Dynasty._

* * *

><p>"What was that?" Broxa blinked as the lights flickered and the sound of the cloister bell rang a couple of times.<p>

The Doctor stared at her in confusion. "You just flipped!" he exclaimed.

"I'm upside down as well?" she exclaimed. A feeling of unease washed over her. "That doesn't sound like a good thing."

"Not really no," the Doctor agreed. He leaned forwards and put his hand up to the gap in the archway, holding it there as if it were pressed up against a pane of glass. Broxa brought up her hand to touch his but felt resistance, as if there was an invisible barrier. She slapped her other hand against an area of empty air but felt the same resistance.

"We've been cut off," she said in despair.

The Doctor looked up, or down in Broxa's opinion. "What is it?" he asked the TARDIS. "You're not sulking because I have found something else to distract me from servicing you, are you?"

"It doesn't really matter what has caused it," Broxa interjected. "What is important is that we sort it out, and quickly."

"I don't think that speed is really of the essence her," the Doctor disagreed. "As there isn't anything chasing us, wanting to put our heads on poles, I think we can take as much time as we want. In fact the cause of this sudden lockdown in dimensions may actually offer us a solution, if we knew what it was. Take Sudoku as an example, you can't fill in all the solutions straight away you have to ponder on for hours trying to work out where they go based on the knowledge that you already have; until you run out of patience and just look at the answers, but that isn't the point."

He halted his tirade and leaned forwards onto the invisible barrier, arched his back and allowed bio-energy to escape from his mouth. He shuddered once the spasm had subsided, he needed to sort this out.

"Is that your regeneration still troubling you?" Broxa asked sympathetically.

"It is a lot better than when I first met you," he replied. "I managed to complete most of it on Mondas but there are still a few finishing touches to be done. But back to our problem at hand, once I get back to the console room I can probably track what is causing the problem."

"And leave me here?" Broxa cried in indignation.

"Afraid of the dark now are we?" the Doctor teased. "No there should be an access panel somewhere nearby, hopefully one either side of the barrier. If we each go to one of these we can manually override this lockdown and you'll be able to come back through."

"Access panel?"

"Those circles on the walls," the Doctor pointed. "One of those should come out giving you access to a collection of wires. I'll shout instructions to you once you find it, it may be round a corner in one of the other corridors."

He watched as she nodded, turned and ran down the corridor, checking each circular indent in the wall as she passed. Watching her moving upside down brought the continuous chant of a song into his head. He couldn't help but join in.

"Tumbling tumbling, tumbling tumbling, tumbling tumbling, tumbling tumbling," he looked up to the ceiling once more. "TARDIS could you play 'Falling To Our Deaths' by the Sinking Ships please." He waited and there was nothing. "Well I guess that was too much to hope for-"

There was a sudden guitar rift that was quickly accompanied by the chant that he had been murmuring a second ago. Broxa paused and looked back at him. He smirked in response. "I couldn't resist," he said, and joined in when the actual verse started.

"Gravity gripping and yanking its leash  
>The wind whipping your hair.<br>Soon you'll feel the smack of the ground  
>Squashing the life from your bones (tumbling, tumbling).<p>

Time to ponder your very last words  
>No need to be rushed.<br>There's always time to be so profound  
>Or just gibber and whimper (tumbling, tumbling).<p>

Twisting, turning, head over heels,  
>Rolling and spinning around.<br>Blaming others is easy yet,  
>It is your fault as well.<br>Twisting, turning, hurtling down,  
>Why can you not see?<br>At this speed we will surely be  
>Falling to our deaths.<p>

Clawing and scrabbling for dear life  
>Futile in the end.<br>Nothing can stop this unending fall  
>You're already over the edge (tumbling, tumbling).<p>

They told you that the world was round  
>Told you there was no edge.<br>Never mind, they will soon  
>Sail over themselves (tumbling, tumbling).<p>

Twisting, turning, head over heels,  
>Rolling and spinning around.<br>Navigation is easy 'till  
>You have to do it yourself.<br>Twisting, turning, hurtling down,  
>Why can you not see?<br>At this speed we will surely be  
>Falling to our deaths.<p>

Mistakes have been made,  
>You were betrayed.<br>It makes no difference,  
>You're already, doomed doomed doomed.<p>

You can try to catch the edge  
>and struggle back to the top.<br>The waterfall of your enemies  
>Will force you down again.<p>

Twisting, turning, head over heels,  
>Rolling and spinning around.<br>One mistake is all it takes  
>To doom you once and for all.<br>Twisting, turning, hurtling down,  
>Why can you not see?<br>At this speed we will surely be  
>Falling to our deaths.<p>

(We'll be)

Twisting, turning, head over heels,  
>Rolling and spinning around.<br>Blaming others is easy yet,  
>It is your fault as well (tumbling, tumbling).<br>Twisting, turning, hurtling down,  
>Plummeting like a stone.<br>Navigation is easy 'till  
>You have to do it yourself (tumbling, tumbling).<br>Twisting, turning, plunging too,  
>Hurtling, spinning as well (tumbling, tumbling).<br>Rolling and flailing futilely  
>Flipping and flapping your arms (tumbling, tumbling).<br>Twisting, turning, hurtling down,  
>Why can you not see?<br>At this speed we will surely be  
>Falling to our deaths (deaths).<br>At this speed we will surely be  
>Falling to our deaths (deaths)."<p>

The song came to an end with a continuous chant of the word 'death'. "Found it yet?" the Doctor called down the corridor.

"No!" came the reply.

"What? But you've had four minutes and 37 seconds. That should have been plenty of time," the Doctor exclaimed.

"It isn't so easy to hunt down something when it looks exactly the same as hundreds of other things," she called back. "Especially with that noise distracting me."

"I'll have you know that the Sinking Ships are a fantastic band," he bristled. "And that is a great song, even if it is only a b-side. Humans would appreciate it, if only it wasn't from all their futures. I'm not one for spoilers, I certainly wouldn't let any of them read books from the future so songs are a real no, no."

"Found it," Broxa shouted.

"Good what does it look like," the Doctor shouted back. "Describe it to me."

"It is a random tangle of wires."

"Yes, could you be more specific," the Doctor said patiently.

"There is an obvious group of blood and sky coloured ones intertwining," Broxa shouted. "Behind that they are all individuals, a soil coloured one is plugged into a sort of tube along with one the colour of grass, one the colour of blood, and one the colour of fire but not the colour of fire; it is lighter and less bloody if you understand what I am saying. There is a similar configuration on a few boxes."

"Do you not have colours on Mondas?"

"We probably did but that isn't something we were ever taught or needed to know."

The Doctor nodded in understanding. "Ok, blood is red, grass is green, soil is brown and fire is orange. Though this is not quite the colour of fire, it is lighter and less bloody, your description makes me think it is yellow," he explained, Broxa shouted that she wouldn't remember them all but would try to remember yellow at least. "What is the order on the tube and where do they attach to?" the Doctor asked.

"From left to right: soil, grass, blood, y-yell-oh," she shouted. "I can't see where they go, somewhere deeper into the chamber."

"Ok unplug the red wire, then unplug the yellow and connect the red into that terminal. Only once you have the red plugged in once more can you unplug the brown which is where the yellow needs to go. Green stays where it is while brown goes where the red started," he instructed. "Don't be tempted to deviate from the order I have told you in anyway."

"Ok red is blood, right," Broxa said. The Doctor shouted a confirmation of this fact. There was silence for a moment, which the Doctor took to mean that she was concentrating on the task at hand. "Do I reconnect yell-oh or b-row-n first?"

"Yellow first," the Doctor replied.

"Ok, is that it?"

"How many boxes are there?" he asked, confirming that she had not finished.

"Three," she replied.

"Are the wire configurations the same as with the tube?" he asked.

"Yes, except that the middle one has a sky coloured wire in between the grass and the blood."

"When you say sky, do you mean a Mondas sky?" the Doctor queried.

"Yes, of course," she shouted back.

"Ok, leave that one alone, on the other two simply swap the green wires," he waited until she confirmed that she had completed this task. "Ok that's it, I just need to find my access panel and do a similar-" he was cut off by a sudden cry of surprise. "What was that?"

"Something just landed on me," Broxa replied.

"Something just landed on you?" the Doctor replied with confusion.

"Yes," she replied in annoyance. "Something landed on my shoulder and then scuttled off."

"You didn't see what it was?"

"No, otherwise I would have told you."

"Must have been one of our little stowaways," the Doctor mused. "I wonder why it wasn't in the room with the others." A sudden realisation dawned on him. "They could have caused the lockdown!"

"That can't be good," Broxa recognised.

"Not in the slightest," the Doctor agreed. "Get back here, I'll go and undo the lockdown from my end. Come through to me as soon as the barrier opens, I don't want us getting split up."

He did not wait for a response, he simply turned and sprinted down the corridor towards where he knew the nearest access panel would be.

* * *

><p><em>The Doctor has moved, the companion is alone. We are never alone, we always have someone nearby. The next phase of the plan shall be enacted, she shall not see it coming. Spread, conquer, befriend, alienate. We speak with one voice but think with a thousand. We are the Dynasty.<em>

* * *

><p>Broxa stood up and started to make her way back towards the barrier. She walked two paces, then stopped, something had caught her attention; a movement in the corner of her eye. She whipped her head round but was unable to catch it. She made to walk off again, but she sensed it again. Once again she failed to spot it when she turned her head. She carefully scanned the corridor for anything out of place. She heard a door open behind her. She spun round just in time to catch a small dark shape entering the door which slammed shut after it.<p>

Highly intrigued she went to follow it, striding up to the door and firmly placing her hand on the handle. She paused for a minute, the Doctor had told her to head straight for the barrier. But surely the stowaways wouldn't be dangerous otherwise the Doctor would have had difficulty with them before. Besides she wasn't going to be in there for very long, she would just take a quick look, to see what they were. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

It had been pitch black when she opened the door but once she entered the lights flicked on. Everything in the room was covered in cobwebs. In places it stretched from the ceiling to the floor, creating intricate webs. These webs were massive, droopy and incredibly creepy. The strands were so thick in places it was almost as if they were ropes. Sat amongst these webs were spiders. They varied in shape and size but were generally black, large bodied, with thin spindly legs.

Broxa had never seen anything like it, there were no spiders on Mondas. She watched with intrigue as one moved in on one of the parcels of web in. She realised that it was another creature that had been captured and bound to prevent its escape, it wriggled about futilely as the spider inched over took hold of it with its front legs and bit into the back of its neck. It proceeded to suck it dry. Deciding that she had seen enough, Broxa turned to leave.

The door slammed shut and a chorus of voices began to echo through her brain. She brought her hands to her temples hoping to shut the voices out. It was like a massive debate, several shouting to leave her be, she is just a girl, while the others pointed out that she was a friend of the Doctor and far from helpless. It wasn't much of a debate, very quickly the Dynasty decided.

_Get her!_

That had been the plan all along anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: the Sinking Ships and the associated song are completely fictitious any similarities to any real life bands or songs are coincidental. I have a clear idea of the tune in my head but there is unfortunately no way for anyone else to hear it, I have not composed it and lack the software or motivation to do so. The Doctor is a time traveller so is bound to be obsessed with music that comes from the future as well as the past and present, this made a pleasant change from simply copying and pasting lyrics from online.<strong>


	26. Dynasty 2

**Author's note: A big thank you to those who sent me words of encouragement for the previous chapter, I'm so glad that the Dynasty has proven to be popular. I should warn you that the opening scene may be upsetting for some readers, it is based around a nightmare I had a few years ago (correct, I don't like spiders either), I apologise to any arachnophobes out there in advance.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><span>Dynasty 2<span>

Like lightning the spiders were upon her. Broxa quickly snapped out of the daze that the psychic voices had put her under and flailed about trying get them off her. The many spiders that clung onto her were not thrown off so easily, she finally managed to pull one off but it had already attached a web to her shoulder. Upon reaching the ground it pulled on the web with all its might, and it was all Broxa could do to avoid being pulled down by it. As she strained against this one the others had the same idea, they jumped down using the web like a bungee rope and once on the floor aided their brother in trying to haul the girl to the ground.

Broxa struggled and was almost bent double by the effort of the spiders, it seemed as if they had got her. But she wasn't going to allow these little creatures get the better of her, she gave a roar and lashed out at the webs, snapping most of them from the force of her blows. She brought herself upright, many spiders flying forwards due to the sudden loss in tension, and dived for the door. But the Dynasty was better prepared than that, before she could get to the door she tripped and fell.

A couple of spiders had managed to get a length of web around her ankles and now tightly bound them together. She wriggled furiously but was unable to break the web this time. She gritted her teeth and resolved to pull herself to the door. She couldn't though, she quickly felt resistance. Glancing back over her shoulder she spied the creation of several lines of web attached to her back, slowly tightening and leading over to an open wardrobe filled with cobwebs and even more spiders.

"No, you don't," Broxa said through gritted teeth. "I'm the Mayor of the Skullblood tribe! I will not be defeated by a gang of tiny xessers!"

_We do not care who you are,_ the psychic voice echoed through her head once again. _You are our enemy, you are alone. You can struggle all you like, you will not escape._

Broxa renewed her efforts, striking forwards and getting a grip on the door frame, but she could go no further. She gripped on for dear life as she felt herself get pulled back millimetre by millimetre. A couple of spiders attached web to her wrists and started to pull her hands away from the doorframe. It dawned on her that there was nothing that she could do to stop them, because if she let go with just one hand they would pull her backwards into the cupboard. Great despair began to fill her as she watched her fingers slowly slip from the tight grip on the door frame.

"Doctor!" she cried in despair, just before she lost her grip and was catapulted into the wardrobe, the door slamming shut in front of her face.

Her wrists had been twisted behind her back and were swiftly bound together by many strands of web, preventing her from quickly pulling herself out again. She wriggled and squirmed about as lines of web pinned her to the walls and wrapped around her body to completely immobilise her. Spiders crawled all over her body, one making the mistake of crawling too near her mouth and having its legs bitten off. She cried out the Doctor's name a couple of times before the spiders webbed her mouth shut. The capture complete, the spiders slowly crawled off her body and back to their homes, either in the webs in the wardrobe or through the small gap in the door to the ones outside.

Broxa tested her constraints once more but could barely move a muscle. She cried out for help but her cry was muffled by the web over her mouth. Trapped in this position all she could think of was that creature caught in the web and sucked dry by the spider that had caught it. She was certain that these spiders meant to eat her too. A sensation passed through her, one that she had never felt before in her life. Fear. Broxa was afraid.

_Alone you are weak, together we are strong. The companion is down, the Doctor shall follow. Then the TARDIS will be ours. We speak with one voice but think with a thousand. We are the Dynasty._

* * *

><p>The Doctor was very quick to find his access panel, he prised it open and was met with a sight very similar to that which Broxa had described. He swiftly proceeded with the rewiring, marvelling at the fact that the TARDIS had grown clips on the ends of the wires thus allowing the wires to be rearranged without needing any special tools; it was almost as if it knew that this would happen. Unfortunately simply rewiring it was not going to solve their problem, it just meant that the Doctor could manually override the lockdown without the TARDIS throwing a hissy fit.<p>

He unplugged a yellow wire and pulled the clip of to expose the bare wire sticking out of the plastic covering. He then pulled out his knife and carefully split the plastic so that he had more bare wire to work with. He pulled out one of the black ones that was intertwined with the reds and carefully stripped back the plastic. Despite the great care that he took, he still managed to slice through the tips of one of his fingers.

He cursed and held it up to allow the bio-energy to heal it. Once it had healed he returned to the job at hand, he twisted the loose wire from the yellow wire around the exposed wire from the black. Once this was done he cut through one of the red wires and carefully stripped the wire back again. One cut end was attached to the clip that had been attached to the yellow wire and, after unplugging a brown wire plugged it into that spot. He removed the clip from the brown wire and once more stripped the plastic. The bare end was intertwined with the other bare end of the red wire and the clip reattached so that it was connected to both wires. He stowed his knife away and plugged this combination in the yellow's original home.

He gave a yelp as he suddenly felt the pull of gravity tug him upwards. He flew upwards and landed with a crash on the ceiling. He sat up and burst out laughing, he had succeeded. This part of the TARDIS was still upside down but it was now in the same dimension as the corridors that were the right way up. He shifted off the domes light that was starting to get a bit hot and spied something small and black sitting next to him. Before it could run off he had slammed his hat over it.

"A stowaway!" he exclaimed pulling his knife out. He lifted the hat up but there was nothing under it. He gaped at the empty space in misunderstanding, the creature jumped out of its hiding place on the inside of the hat and scuttled off towards a hole in the corner of the ceiling.

The Doctor twisted around and slammed the flat of the knife down on its body, not hard enough to crush it but hard enough to keep it pinned. He took a moment to examine the creature. It looked like a common or garden house spider but seemed to have more of the body of a black widow, in fact it seemed like a subtle hybrid of many different species.

"How long have you been in here?" he wondered. He certainly knew of no species that looked like this, even on any of the alien worlds.

_I have only been here for a few weeks, but we have been here for generations._

"Wow!" the Doctor exclaimed. "So this is what prolonged living in the TARDIS does to you. I must have accidently picked up hundreds of different species over the centuries, the constant exposure to the time vortex has caused all your genetic structures to intermingle creating this single form. Also evolution through the generations has aided in mental capacity allowing you to talk to me psychically. Fantastic!"

_We speak with one voice but think with a thousand. We are the Dynasty._

"So a hive mind," the Doctor summarised. "You all have contact with one another, does this mean I am talking to everyone as I speak to you."

_The range is only limited. My closest brethren can hear my thoughts directly, the furthest have to have the message passed on._

"Well I am chuffed," the Doctor said. "I have bred an extremely intelligent form of life."

_We are the perfect race. We are never alone even when we are apart. Decisions are made on mass, and plans followed out efficiently._

"Bit of an ego," the Doctor commented, "but I am sure I can curb that with time. Could you take me to your leader? Ooh, there I go again. Though this time it was a question rather than a statement slash order."

_That will not be necessary._

"No, of course not," the Doctor shook his head. "You have no leader. Well take me to where the rest of you are congregated."

_We do not need speak to you, you are insignificant, and alone. Alone you are weak, but we are strong because we are together._

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't like the sound of that, getting too big for your boots if you ask me," he said condescendingly. "And I am not alone, I have Broxa..." he trailed off upon realising that in all the time since he had overridden the lockdown she had not joined him.

_The companion has been dealt with._

"What have you done with her?" he demanded, his voice surprisingly level.

_She has been dealt with. _The Dynasty repeated. The psychic voice had changed, it was as if there were more people suddenly speaking._ Next up, the Doctor. Then the TARDIS. We shall not fail, we have it all planned._

"What would you want with the TARDIS?" the Doctor asked in confusion. "And why now? You could have tried something like this years ago."

_Our way of life is under threat. You came to throw us out._

"That isn't true," the Doctor protested. "I was merely coming to see what you were so I could decide what to do."

There was a chorus of voices in his head now, speculating this new information. They certainly were very united, deciding amongst everyone their decisions based on every new piece of information. The debate seemed to be swinging in the Doctor's favour when another, more powerful voice swept through them all.

_It makes no difference, we have already decided. We immobilise him._

That doesn't sound very united, the Doctor thought. before he could think any more a web shot from the floor, latched onto the wrist that held the knife and pulled it up into the air without much effort. Several spiders appeared out of the hole in the ceiling and joined up with the one that was no longer trapped to circle the Doctor and fire streams of web at him.

The Doctor jumped to the side to avoid the first stream but with one hand being pulled up to the floor he was hit by the next wave. It became a tug of war between the one pulling him up by his hand and those pulling his body down. He was basically helpless as they started to circle about to cocoon him in the web. That is what they thought anyway. The Doctor sneezed into his free hand and hurled the bio-energy he had forced up in an arc that sent several spiders flying and released him from the webs pulling him down.

He pulled with all his might on the one still attached to his wrist making it taught and then jumped, the elasticity pulling him up into the sky. While in the air, he grabbed the halfway point in the length of web so that when he dropped down again he was still halfway up. He looked up to see the spider struggling to hold up his weight.

"Didn't see that one coming did you," the Doctor teased. He looked down to see the spiders congregating under his feet and preparing to fire web at him again. "What a stupid place to stand."

The Doctor swung with his knife and cut cleanly through the line of web. He dropped to the ceiling, bending his knees to cushion the impact and immediately sprinted off down the corridor; miraculously no spiders were crushed by this action. As he sprinted he spotted water leaking out of the top of an upside down door and a plan formed in his mind. The spiders continued to give chase and were surprised when the Doctor started to run up the slightly slanted wall. He slipped and started to slide back down but just managed to just get hold of the door handle. He placed his feet flat on the wall and kicked off whilst twisting the door handle. The door swung open followed by a huge torrent of water that swept over the ceiling, taking the spiders with it.

The Doctor let go and gently slid down. "How many swimming pools do you have old girl?" he asked the TARDIS. "And how come the ceiling is so low in that one?"

There was no response, there never was, so he shrugged and sprinted down the corridor towards where it flipped the right way up again. He had to rescue Broxa from whatever fate the Dynasty had left her to.

* * *

><p>The voices of the Dynasty chorused loudly in both the lair of the bulk of the collective and the brethren on mission. Unlike all previous times this was no debate, it was a full blown argument. They struggled to comprehend how one of their brilliant plans had failed. The ones who carried it out blamed those who had come up with it, for it was a rubbish plan, and the ones had planned blamed those that had executed it, for botching their perfectly good plan. Now they debated the change to the situation. It seemed most prudent to skip onto taking the TARDIS without subduing the Doctor.<p>

But there was a problem. The Doctor had done something, changed the configuration of some wires which had overridden the lockdown they had created. Even the most daring wouldn't dare to attempt any more rewiring, they didn't know what it would do. The risk was too great. By complete accident the Doctor had pushed them out of control, into a corner with no control. It seemed that they had been defeated.

_It matters not!_ The powerful, dominant voice cut through them. _He is still alone while we are many. We can work out how to fix his alterations and whilst holding him at bay. Distract him with attacks, while the others analyse. Nothing can stop us._

They all joined together for the battle cry.

_We shall spread, we shall conquer. We shall befriend, we shall make enemies. None can predict us, we have it all planned. We speak with one voice but think with a thousand. We are the Dynasty._

* * *

><p>The Doctor stalked down the corridor listening intently with his mind. He stepped through the archway and into the corridor that was the correct way round and scanned once more. All he could detect was the mad jumble of the many minds of the Dynasty. He couldn't find the extrovert, defiant, fierce, cunning, calculating, curious and marmalade flavoured mind of his companion anywhere. Bloody regeneration must be limiting his psychic capabilities still, he thought, or the sheer weight of the Dynasty was just blocking her mind. There was one other possibility for being unable to find her mind, but he didn't want to consider that; especially so soon after Lisa.<p>

He decided to resort to the age old method of retracing her steps. He quickly found the access panel that she had rewired and, after confirming that she had rewired properly, did a quick scan with his mind. Still nothing. He started to trace the route that she would have taken back to the barrier, scanning with his mind, and came to a stop outside a door. There was definitely the marmalade flavour coming from that room, but the rest wasn't there. In their places were the emotions of fear, panic and desperation. Either there was a frightened little girl in this room, who coincidentally had the same flavoured aura as Broxa, or something incredibly traumatising had happened to Broxa. And it would have to be especially traumatising for it to affect her in this way.

Bracing himself for the worst he pushed the door open. He glanced around at the cobweb covered walls and ceiling, this had obviously been heavily used by the Dynasty in the past, though there didn't seem to be any spiders around at the moment.

"Broxa?" he called cautiously. There was a muffled cry from a wardrobe which he hadn't noticed until now. He rushed over and through the doors open. "Ok, I'm here now!" Upon setting his eyes upon the heavily bound Broxa he brandished his knife and started to hack through the lines of web that were holding her in place.

Her eyes were wide and glistened from tears forming, her face shiny from ones that had already fallen. What had they done to her? As he hacked through the web she thrashed about, in an attempt to aid him; he tried to placate her with soothing words but she was in too much of a panic. Eventually she was able to hop forwards were she fell onto him, he gently carried her to the ground.

"Hold still now," he said, exchanging the golden blade for the golden fork and holding it near the web that covered her mouth. "I don't want to cause an injury."

Using the prongs of the fork he gently picked the edges until he was able to insert it underneath and peel the web away like a plaster. She coughed, spluttered and let out a torrent of Mondasian swear words. The Doctor casually flicked the knife blade back into use and went round her back to release her wrists. Once her arms were free she twisted round and hugged him tightly, bawling into his shoulder.

"They are not making me very sympathetic," he said hugging her back. "What did they do to you?"

"Jumped me," Broxa gasped between sobs. "Bound me in their rope and threw me in the cupboard. They wanted to xessing eat me!"

The Doctor didn't know what to say to this, he was still struggling to understand how the fearsome cannibal leader had been reduced to this whimpering wreck. She had cried on Earth, true, but that was because of pain, this was totally different. He suddenly felt her stiffen in his arms.

"Watch out!" she cried.

He twisted round and instinctively sliced the spider that was flying at him in half. The four others that had emerged from the wardrobe froze in position. The top half of the dying spider wriggled about in pain, a dark liquid seeping onto the floor.

"I should destroy you all, chop you up and hurl you into the time vortex to burn, treating my friend in such a manner," he spat, expression dark, but then he brightened up with a cheerful smile. "But then I wouldn't be the Doctor, I don't just commit genocide for one mistake. Even if it is a rather large mistake. No, I am offering you a chance to redeem yourself. First of all the chief spider must come here, and don't tell me there is no chief spider because I know that there is a chief spider. Then I will discuss the terms of your immediate departure, you will leave the TARDIS and start a new life on some planet; I'll let you know which one later. Failure to do so will leave me no choice but to act ruthlessly."

_Foolish Doctor! Do you think we will give in to such demands?_

"You have been in the TARDIS for centuries!" the Doctor shouted. "Surely you must know not to underestimate me."

_We have not underestimated you, we have it all planned. You think you can simply squash us like inferiors? We have been here for generations, all were conceived and born in the TARDIS. Remember Melody Pond._

The Doctor's head whipped back round to the one he had decapitated. It twitched slightly, its body starting to glow ever so slightly and then brighter and brighter. Its legs stretched to their full extent as bio-energy exploded around it, making it nearly invisible.

"What the xess is that!" Broxa exclaimed.

"Just xessing run!" the Doctor shouted back. He paused mid-step and turned back to her. "Now I'm starting to say it, you're a real bad influence you are. I never swore in Gallifreyan before, and I never even picked up Earth swear words but you have managed to get me to swear in Mondasian without much effort at all."

"Cut my legs loose or carry me!" Broxa shouted, cutting him off in his train of thought. He nodded and dropped down to slice through the web that bound her ankles. Out of the corner of his eye the spider finished regenerating and flipped itself back onto its legs. With his expert eyes he could tell that it had a slightly different shaped body, and a slightly different shade to its body, and slightly thinner hairs than it had before. It almost certainly had a completely different personality to before as well.

The regenerated spider looked up at him and hissed, baring its fangs and making Broxa flinch. The Doctor swiftly booted it across the room, dragged Broxa from the floor by one hand and sprinted out of the room. They slammed the door once they got out and panted heavily.

"Better set everything up for the meeting," the Doctor said cheerfully.

"That's still going to happen?" Broxa replied in confusion.

"Of course," the Doctor smiled mischievously. "The Dynasty thinks that they have us, yet they do not realise that their true enemy lies within. That is the key to their downfall."


	27. Dynasty 3: Dictatorship

Dynasty 3: Dictatorship

"The problem is that we can't just tell them that," the Doctor said as they walked down the corridor. "They will vehemently deny that any one of them has more power than the others, or if they do he will force them to ignore it. So we are going to need to be crafty, like them."

"Couldn't we just eject them or something like that?" Broxa asked.

"We could," the Doctor agreed. "But that would be genocide, I could never do that unless it was really necessary; though having said that I must have been a lot weaker on following my personal rules in the past. Vervoids, the Great Vampires, the Ice Warriors, the Jagaroth, the Craxas, the dinosaurs, the Pyroviles – although I suppose restoring their planet must have brought them back - the list goes on and I don't particularly want to add the Dynasty to that list.

"Besides it wouldn't actually work," he added. "There is a failsafe in the TARDIS that returns all inhabitants to the console room should the room they are currently occupying suddenly be destroyed. And we don't want them to suddenly be occupying the console room, that is probably what they want."

"So what _are_ we going to do?" Broxa asked insistently.

The Doctor glanced at the corners between the walls and the ceiling. "They are in the ducts," he said distantly. "Crawling amongst the wires, making alterations. That was why we got separated in the first place, they caused the lockdown. They have so much power yet have nothing because our earlier alterations to override the lockdown has changed the circuitry of the place." The Doctor paused and looked at his companion. "We are going to offer them exactly what they want."

Broxa frowned at him. "After everything they have done you are just going to give them everything they want?"

"I said I would offer it to them," the Doctor replied. "I didn't say I was going to give it to them."

He strolled a few metres down the corridor then paused and stared up at the ceiling. "They're probably up there now, staring down at us following our every movement. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to leap out at us with their spindly legs and snapping pincers. Binding us in their sticky web and dangling us from the ceiling. You do have to admire the monsters you come across really, otherwise you can become bitter and twisted. That's how you become a Valeyard, by ceasing to care about the wonders of the universe."

He paused and pondered about that last sentence, he failed to notice Broxa glancing nervously at the ceiling and shifting about uncomfortably on her feet. "Now why am I suddenly talking about him again?" he wondered aloud. "What has changed to bring him into my conversations?"

He shrugged and turned to his companions. "I need you to head back to the console room," he said. "I will stay here and call them down. You need to flick the switch, on the panel nearest the entrance to the corridor, which has the long black lever on its right and is in front of the red knob. That will re-align the dimensions and restore all the previous settings, undoing all rewiring that has been done. As soon as everything has calmed down pull the lever, twist the knob 180 degrees – that's a half turn – return the lever to its original position and then shout 'Emergency Programme Delta Thirteen'.

"I will stay here and contact the Dynasty, discuss the terms of our surrender. I will make sure that I get to the most important point at exactly the right moment. Any questions?" he asked.

"You want me to go back to the console room all on my own?" Broxa asked fearfully.

"Yes, this won't work otherwise," the Doctor nodded.

"But, but," she stammered looking up at the ceiling nervously. "What about the Dynasty?"

"Oh, don't worry about them, they should be too interested in what I have to say to bother with you," he dismissed.

"Should?" she exclaimed. "What if they do bother me?"

"Well you'll be ready for them won't you," he said as if it were obvious. "You can take my penknife if it makes you feel better."

"What good will that do?" she asked. "They will just heal like that other one did."

"Not if you actually kill them," the Doctor responded, now slightly concerned about Broxa's attitude. "What are you so worried about?" she said nothing, shifting about uncomfortably. Then he realised. "You're scared!"

She didn't want to admit it but her reaction gave it away. He eyed her curiously, struggling to understand how the tough, unflappable girl that had been faced with extinction and almost certain death at the hands of the footpads could be so badly affected here. It appeared that once again he had damaged someone irreparably, maybe it would have been better if he had left her on Mondas; at least she had had a semi-enjoyable existence. No he was overreacting, she was merely scared and struggling to cope because she had never experienced that sensation before, it didn't mean she was forever damaged like Dodo, Victoria, Tegan, Peri, Rose, Donna, Amy, Rory, Felicity, Boris, Gordon, Exellia etc.

"Well I suppose it is too much to ask of you," he said. "As If I would expect you to head back to the console room all on your own. Should have known I wouldn't be able to count on you."

Broxa's head whipped round in shock. "What did you say?" she asked angrily.

"I don't blame you obviously," the Doctor continued regardless. "I can't expect you to go and do something if you are too scared. It makes the whole plan very difficult, but I am sympathetic. You can remain with me if you feel unable to."

"You think I am incapable!" Broxa roared. "I am not some gibbering wreck who cowers in the face of their fears. I Am Mayor Broxanna of the Skullblood tribe! I will go, and you are not stopping me!"

The Doctor grinned. "Good, I knew I could count on you," he said, glad that his reverse psychology had worked. "I trust you know the way from here."

"Of course," she nodded, slightly suspicious about his sudden change in attitude. "How will I know when to activate everything?"

"Oh, don't worry about me," he said. "Just act as if what I am doing has no bearing on your actions, treat it as if you are simply being helpful and can take as much time as is needed to complete it."

She inclined her head and screwed up her face in confusion. "How will that work?" she asked.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her. "I have it all worked out. The Dynasty is not the only one who has plans you know."

She gripped the penknife tightly and nodded in understanding. "Good luck," she said and turned and stalked off in the direction of the console room. The Doctor smiled at her back until she had turned the corner out of sight. He then turned and strode down the corridor in the opposite direction.

"I wish to make contact with the Dynasty!" he declared.

* * *

><p>He listened intently with his mind as he strode through the corridors, listening as the Dynasty hastily discussed what he had said. They questioned how genuine the offer was, after all they had done to him, whilst others were willing to jump at this opportunity. The Doctor did not care what they thought at this stage, he was busy following the concentration of voices. They were spread all around the TARDIS, hidden in the ceilings around him and intermingling with all the wires, but they were mostly spread thin. The concentration of voices became more dense the deeper he ventured into the bowels of his ship, unknowingly leading straight to their lair; the room that the first stowaways had made their homes in all those years ago.<p>

He eventually came upon a door that looked no different to any of the others, yet felt completely different. He placed his palm on the face of the door and listened with his mind. The voices were so numerous in here it was near impossible to make out the individual voices, it was just a wave of noise. This was certainly their lair, and where the true enemy resided. The leader of the collective with no leaders. He took a deep breath, twisted the door knob and stepped into the darkened room.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom and he could make out a room very much like the one that Broxa had been captured in, except the web was much denser. It glowed in the dark making it seem that the walls were white with the occasional dark patch of the real wall making an appearance as if the wallpaper was peeling. He took no more than three steps into the room, any further and he would have walked into and become entangled in a few of the many wires that crisscrossed across the entire room like an array of laser alarms from a secure vault from a film; the difference here being that there did not seem to be a convenient, easy route that a gymnast would be able to follow in order to get through without touching one. And then there were the spiders. The Doctor had never seen such a huge gathering of spiders in one place in any of his lives, even taking into account the Racnoss horde that he had been forced to run from as it had swept over the peaceful glades of Argentalia. He could make out thousands of eyes staring at him, and feel even more that he could not see.

"I come to speak directly with the king of the spiders, the leader of the Dynasty," he shouted into the room.

The whispering of the many minds increased in intensity as this statement was discussed. Eventually they went silent and spoke together in one voice.

_There is no leader, Doctor. We are a collective, we share each other's thoughts and lead together as one. There is no king of the spiders._

The Doctor nodded, this was exactly what he had expected. "He is so powerful that you don't even realise it. You can deny it all you like but there is one who defines all your actions for you giving you the appearance of a collective decision when it is in fact he who decides everything."

_You are wrong Doctor. We are a collective, we listen to one another and decide together before we act. We speak with one voice but think with a thousand. We are..._

"Delusional," the Doctor butted in. "You certainly think with all your voices and speak with one. But does it never occur to you that you all speak with the one voice that shouts the loudest?" The Dynasty went silent at this, suddenly they began to question their very beliefs. "Exactly," the Doctor cried triumphantly. "You never realised it but now that I point it out it seems obvious.

"One of your voices never took part in any of your discussions and then would shout across the top to decide the outcome, giving the appearance that you had decided together. Only a gentle word here and there so that the others would sway to your side of thinking was enough, and you performed this manipulation with great skill. Now I call you forward to speak for yourself and explain yourself!" the Doctor shouted. Nothing happened. "I ask again, come forth Aragog, Shelob, the Great One whatever you call yourself!"

He was satisfied by hearing several whispering voices also calling for the true leader to come forwards, some using one of the three names that he had suggested, although there were still a few that tried to shout them down or claim that the Doctor was mistaken.

_What do you hope to gain from this?_ A single voice pierced through the darkness.

"Ah, there you are!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Tired of playing that game now? No point denying it now, you are the only one who spoke then."

_What do you hope to gain from this? _ The voice repeated.

"Could you come forwards so I can see you?" the Doctor asked. "I prefer to be able to see those who I am talking to."

There was a shuffling and the twitching of webs as a dark shape made its way forwards. Quickly the Doctor found himself face to face with a spider dangling from its own silk. It was significantly smaller than any of the others the Doctor had seen but still exuded a huge air of menace and power.

_I repeat, what do you hope to gain from this?_

"Now I was expecting you to be a lot bigger," the Doctor commented. "I don't know why, I just had this feeling you would be much bigger, body the size of my head at the very least. What sort of fearsome leader are you?"

_Sometimes our regenerations do like to mock us, _the spider agreed. _This is the result of my latest regeneration. I used to be so much bigger._

"Yes I noticed you had picked up that little trick as well," the Doctor nodded. "It isn't much of a surprise obviously, your ancestors will have all been conceived and born here in the TARDIS even if you weren't; which you probably were."

_Are you going to explain this all now or do we have to hold your companion to ransom again?_ The spider threatened.

The Doctor smirked. "You will soon discover that that is an empty threat," he said. "By revealing yourself your loyal subjects are suddenly less inclined to follow your instructions. Now the reason I came here was to discuss what I am going to do to you. If that is the collective desire I am even willing to give you control of the TARDIS."

_You have tricked me! _the spider snarled upon discovering that the spiders he had sent after Broxa had indeed paused due to this fact.

"I merely wanted to talk with you all honestly," the Doctor shrugged. "You notice that I have nothing up my sleeves, there are no invisible wires suspended from the ceiling. Just you, me and the rest of the Dynasty."

_You said that you were willing to give up the TARDIS. Are you truly willing to do that?_

"If that is what you all truly want," he nodded. "I was always willing to negotiate with you, even before you attacked."

_Well that is what we had decided, so undo your troublesome modifications so we can take it!_

"No! That is not what the Dynasty had decided!" the Doctor shouted back. "That is what you had decided! You need to make the decision collectively. As it stands you are not a collective at all, you are a dictatorship."

_Then I am the Dictator and they shall all obey me! I listen to their thoughts and choose the correct path. This is the correct path, now give us the TARDIS!_

* * *

><p>There had been one moment, on her journey back to the console room, that had made her blood freeze. Several spiders had crawled out of a gap in the ceiling and began to circle her. Broxa had been certain that she was going to get captured again and let the Doctor down, but then suddenly they all stopped and remained frozen. She had no idea what they were doing but it gave her the opportunity to sprint away, a quick glance over her shoulder revealing that they weren't making any move to follow. Other than that the journey back to the control room was completely uneventful.<p>

She gave a huge sigh of relief when the door came into view and sprinted over to it. She was not prepared for the sight that met her when she threw it open, but realised that she should have predicted it; after all she had been running along the ceiling of TARDIS corridors nearly all of the way. She gazed over the doorframe and down the huge drop to the ceiling of the console room, then brought her gaze once more to the upside down console. She could see the switch that needed to be flicked but it was at least five metres away.

"So how exactly am I supposed to do this Doctor?" she muttered. The task seemed impossible but if Broxa was one thing she was certainly not one to back down from a challenge. She surveyed the scene in front of her with fresh eyes to see if there was anything that she could use to aid her. It was then that she noticed the railing that led from the door to the railing that encircled the main console space. It didn't take her the entire distance but it got her close enough that she may be able to leap to the console.

She carefully stood on the top of the door frame and grabbed the sides to aid her balance. She looked up at the handrail she needed to grab that was just out of her reach. She would only get one chance at this, there was no way back to the ground if she fell all the way to the ceiling. She took a deep breath and leapt. There was a brief moment when she felt that she had completely misjudged it and was now about to plummet to the ceiling, but before gravity could get its hold on her once more she had already tightened her palms around the handrail. Her legs kicked about uselessly until Broxa was able to conjure the strength to lift one up and loop it through the handrail as well; she was now able to remove one arm and wipe the sweat from her brow.

It was a cautious, ponderous climb, sliding up the banister like a sloth. She never once thought about the impending drop should she lose her grip, and was therefore able to avoid doing so. Difficulty was caused by the fact she had to slide upwards (due to the door to the corridor being up a set of stairs from the console room) but this was no problem for the cannibal leader who continued on regardless; using her legs to stop herself from sliding back down. She soon reached the railing around the edge of the main console space and began to reach over to it.

There was a horrible metallic creak. Broxa looked around for the source of the noise and was horrified to discover that it was coming from the banister that she was hanging from. She hurriedly moved over to the next piece of railing but her legs were still looped in the banister when it fell away from the floor. She gasped as she hung on for dear life, struggling to hold up both her weight and the weight of the banister trapped around her foot. She wriggled about trying to get it free but stopped upon realising that it was the solution to her problem; using the banister she would be able to reach the switch that she needed to flick.

She gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on the railing before slowly lifting her legs to bring the banister up for her to reach. She growled from the effort and shuddered uncontrollably. She gave a deep breath before releasing her grip with one hand which released her legs from the banister and gripped hold of it tightly instead. She now dangled precariously from one hand while her legs dangled uselessly below. She felt her grip loosen so desperately threw her other hand forwards to flick the switch using the end of the banister.

Before she could flick it she lost her grip. She gave a shriek as she felt the tug of gravity pulling her down and let go of the banister. The momentum carried the banister forwards where it, very fortunately, struck and flicked the switch. Broxa suddenly ceased in her falling away from the floor and fell back up again, landing painfully on her stomach on the console room floor. She groaned loudly and rolled onto her back. After a few seconds of recovery she pulled herself to her feet and stood over the console drunkenly.

"Xessing Fyreworld!" she swore. "Next time I face the monster, Doctor, and you can climb across the railings to the upside down console."

She coughed painfully and tried to remember what else the Doctor had asked her to do.

* * *

><p>The Dictator squirmed and squealed in pain. Pain caused by the others struggling to get a hold over him. They were a collective and regardless of their decision they were not going to have one of their number acting as a leader over the top of them.<p>

_Where would you be without me! _the Dictator screamed in defiance.

_We wouldn't be in this mess, that's for certain! _The rest of the Dynasty shouted back. _You led us into a blind alley, we could have formed an alliance, built a new colony, a better colony on a new world. But no, you had to send us after the TARDIS. What could we possibly want with the ability to travel through time? What is it that we do that requires the use of a starship?_

_That is the problem! You lack vision!_

Suddenly the argument stopped. They had all felt the sudden change in the TARDIS. The Doctor smiled, Broxa had succeeded in the difficult part, it would soon be over. The Dictator snarled in triumph.

_The TARDIS has been fixed, we can take it again! We no longer need you._

"What all on your own?" the Doctor queried. "You think that just because the TARDIS has returned to proper working order they will just follow you again?"

_No, they will follow me because you won't be there to remind them of their choice. _The Dictator gave an horrific squeal and hurled itself at the Doctor's face.

* * *

><p>"TARDIS can you hear me?" Broxa shouted at the console. She waited for a few seconds but the TARDIS gave no indication of having heard her. She shrugged. "Let's just hope that the Doctor's right about this. Emergency Programme: Delta Thirteen!"<p>

Nothing happened.

"It's thirty, not thirteen!" a voice shouted. "Honestly thief, are you still incapable of driving me properly after all these years?"

Broxa turned to the sound of the voice and was surprised to see a brown haired woman in a Victorian style dress. "Who are you?" Broxa exclaimed. "And how did you get here?"

"I'm Sexy," the woman said. "I'm a manifestation of the TARDIS consciousness."

"You're the TARDIS?"

"Yes, and I had better deal with these little Stowaways, trying to steal me from my thief," she replied.

"So why didn't you do it earlier?" Broxa questioned. She wanted to say 'before they captured me' but couldn't bring herself to say it.

"I didn't realise that their intentions were dishonourable," the woman explained. "And by the time I did, they had disabled me. They know me even better than my thief, so knew how to trap me in myself, but you saved me! I'm so glad he picked you up, that previous girl was so wet."

Broxa stared at her as the implications of what she had just said sank in. "You made the Doctor land on Mondas!"

"No that was an accident," she clarified, "my stabilisers are out of synch. But it was quite a good accident."

Broxa was speechless with fury. Here was the TARDIS telling her that Lisa's death had been a good thing, but she had been one of the few people to have shown her proper kindness in her life. "Lisa was a good person, how dare you say that her death was a good thing," she gritted out.

"I never said that," Sexy replied. "Bringing you here and getting rid of Harry for good was the good part. Now we had better activate Emergency Programme: Delta _Thirty_," she said with a grin. She began to glow the yellowy white of Artron energy and disappeared into the console. Once she had disappeared the console room shook violently, throwing Broxa off her feet.

* * *

><p>The Doctor rolled on the floor clutching at the spider that was trying to dig its pincers into his neck. There was a sudden tremor that made the Dictator pause, long enough for the Doctor to prise him from his neck and hurl him across the room.<p>

"Hold on tight!" he shouted, grabbing hold a web that was securely attached to the ceiling and several others.

The tremors continued, increasing in intensity, until there was a huge crack. The room broke away leaving behind the wall with the door, it spun around revealing a gold and blue swirling abyss that the Doctor knew to be the Time Vortex. He quickly averted his gaze and clung to the web tightly as the Time winds whipped about him, attempting to tug him into the abyss. He heard the screams of fear from the Dynasty, for once they could all agree on one thing.

_Doctor! _One lone voice made the Doctor open one eye, right at the edge, clinging on for dear life was the Dictator. _Help me!_

Even if he had wanted to there was nothing the Doctor could do but watch as the Dynasty's unknown and unwanted leader was slowly pulled into the Time Vortex. There was an ear splitting scream and it was gone.

"Send my regards to Mr. Salamander," the Doctor shouted. "He may only be human but you'll find you have an awful lot in common."

He shut his eyes and listened to the screams of the remainder of the Dynasty, after what seemed like an hour they finally stopped and wind died down to a gently breeze. The doctor opened his eyes, stood up and strode to the edge of the room. Outside was a lush field of blue grass, gently swaying in the breeze. _Couldn't have picked a better place to land, _he thought, _good old Emergency Programme Delta Thirteen._

"Welcome to you new home," the Doctor said to the Dynasty. "Once the TARDIS lands we can unload the rest of your brethren and you can start up here. A few miles east is a river that you can obtain liquid from, slightly beyond that is a forest full things to eat; both animal, vegetable and mineral. There is no sentient species here yet so you can basically do as you wish; though I have high hopes for the deer. Never seen a sentient species based on deer before, that could be interesting to see. So allow them to evolve, maybe help them a bit and you could become friends in the future, sharing the planet like the humans and the Silurians do. Though that relies on that version of events not being a parallel world that I stumbled upon. Or you could just prey on them, choice is yours, it is your home now."

The spiders tentatively made their way to the edge of the room. There was a brief flicker of discussion before they spoke as one voice.

_Thank you Doctor._

He nodded in appreciation as a grating noise began to fill the air. He took a few paces through the grass towards where it seemed to be coming from. Ever so slowly the familiar blue police box appeared in mid-air, it hung there for a few seconds before crashing to the ground. The Doctor raised his eyebrow before clicking his fingers to open the door.

"Excellently done Broxa," he exclaimed upon entering.

She whipped round in shock and gaped at him. "How did you get out there?" she questioned.

"The beauty of Emergency Programme: Delta Thirteen," he replied. "I never did understand the point of it in the academy, but Borusa was right, I did end up using it eventually. We have landed on a planet which the Dynasty are now about to colonise, I don't want to alarm you but the rest are going to come flooding out of that door in a minute."

She glanced up at the door to the corridors and stepped round to the other side of the console. "What happened exactly?" she asked.

"The room we were in was ejected from the TARDIS and guided down to the nearest habitable planet, thus bypassing the failsafe that would have beamed us to the console room," he explained. "The Dynasty are now going to leave the ship and start up a new life on this new planet."

"This is an interesting way to punish them," Broxa said resentfully. "Give them their own planet to live on."

"I see your point," the Doctor conceded. "But you see, the Dynasty were being guided by a dark influence. One that is now gone, so it seems fair to let the rest have this."

Broxa conceded the point and gripped the console tightly as the remaining spiders came through the door to the TARDIS corridor and made their way out of the door.

"By the way," she said. "It was Delta Thirty, not thirteen."

The Doctor frowned and went through it in his head. "Oh yes, so it is," he said eventually. "How did you know?"

The cannibal inclined her head towards the console. "Sexy told me," she said.

The Doctor gave her a look of surprise before turning back to the console. He patted it affectionately saying: "Well done old girl."

* * *

><p>The Dynasty were looking forward to this new world. Having been cooped up in the TARDIS all their lives it was nice to feel the wind on their bodies and the soft grass on their legs; rather than the hard floor of the TARDIS. They were still sad though when the TARDIS dematerialised, it had been their home after all, and they would miss it.<p>

They looked about the world and discussed their next move. It took longer than it used to because there was no Dictator pushing them all in one direction. Upon deciding they looked about and set about their respective jobs, joining together for an inspirational speech.

_We were tricked and manipulated, but the Dictator is no more. We are free to be a collective, a family once more. The darkness has gone and all we see is light, we are afraid but excited. We will spread and befriend or alienate as we choose, safe in the knowledge that it is indeed a collective decision for our greater good. We discuss with all our voices and speak together as one. We are the Dynasty._

* * *

><p><strong>End of Part Five<strong>

**Salamander is the villain from the serial 'The Enemy of the World' where Patrick Troughton is both him and the Doctor (a clever device that should be used again in my opinion). At the end he falls through the open TARDIS doors into the Time Vortex, there is no way of knowing what happened to him in there, it isn't unreasonable to say that he wouldn't still be there now; trapped for all eternity. Just in case you were all wondering.**

**Up next: Part Six, Sun and Shadows**

**In which the Doctor and Broxa are called up by the new leader of the Shadow Proclamation, and Sundew have a surprise visitor.**


	28. Sun and Shadows

**Author's note: a big thank you to those who have continued to read from the very start and especially to those who have been reviewing regularly. Mini adventures over it is time to return to the main action, enjoy.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part Six: Sun and Shadows<strong>

Unlike in other spacecraft the door was almost silent when it opened. A human would have missed it, but the person sitting at the desk was not human. Colonel Kabrok looked up to see another Judoon stomp into the room. He was helmetless and had a very noticeable chip in his nose horn; the pips on his uniform signified that he was a captain.

"What is it Tybo?" Kabrok asked. "Lost another prisoner?"

The Judoon known as Tybo scowled at yet another reminder of his mission to transport Androvax the destroyer that had almost resulted in the destruction of a Level 5 World. Fortunately most Judoon did not know the full extent of his humiliation on Earth, otherwise the taunts would have been far worse; and he may have received some form of official punishment. His career had certainly never been the same after that incident. He had watched many younger Judoon rise up to and beyond his level and giving him no respect for his wealth of experience; Kabrok being one of them. To say he resented Kabrok would be an understatement.

"Actually I have come to inform you that the Sundew base has been located," Tybo stated.

Kabrok turned his head so that his good eye was facing the Captain. "The Plasmavore was correct?" he questioned.

"About everything," Tybo nodded. "Including the strength of the defences."

Kabrok tsked. "That is a shame, I was hoping he was over estimating. You may go, I will call you if I need you again."

Tybo nodded in understanding and turned to leave. He was stopped by a grunt from Kabrok. "Colonel?"

"I do understand how hard this must be for you," Kabrok said. "You being a Captain for many years and now have to answer to me who has only been in the Proclamation for one. I want to work with you Tybo, I want to use your experience."

"I do not want your sympathies," Tybo snapped. "And I will not help you to further your career. You got this far on your own, you can stay ahead on your own. And don't even think about trying to bribe me either." He swiftly turned on his heels and left the room.

Kabrok sighed, completely deflated. They all hated him because he had the nerve to succeed where they had all failed. Even the defeated and disgraced Captains would not grasp at the bone he so temptingly placed under their noses. Whilst he was currently safe at the top rung of the ladder, Kabrok knew that the knives would come out upon making his first mistake; Judoon were notorious backstabbers. That was why he had been trying to gain allies, those that would aid him should that moment ever come, but he had failed in that. He was all on his own.

It did not seem to matter that he had become the effective leader of the Shadow Proclamation in the absence of an Architect. The problem was that he was too young, and suspiciously clever; Judoon heard tales about men who had clever ideas, and very often their feet fell off (they never stopped to realise that cutting your toenails with a scythe actually wasn't a clever idea for this reason). Though there was some respect caused by his battle scar, this was probably what had allowed him to get this far on his own; scars showed proficiency in battle. He gently touched the black leather patch that covered the eye he had lost in the mission to capture Alkrad; it always brought him comfort doing that.

Alkrad. Now Kabrok's relationship with him was a strange one. On one hand the Plasmavore was a notorious assassin, murderer of the Shadow Architect and the previous Judoon Colonel, and Captain Vykro among countless others, as well as being the one to take out Kabrok's eye. Certainly many reasons to hate him, yet he had also turned his back on Sundew. Alkrad had surrendered and had been very cooperative in releasing the information that he had; and had been proven correct in most areas. Not only that but Kabrok was also finding that, regardless of the resentment that he should feel, he could speak to him most easily.

In fact that is what he needed right now, a little talk with Alkrad would cheer him up no end. He stood up and plodded away from his desk he was just making his way to the door when it opened allowing the entrance to a young humanoid; pale skinned and with red eyes, the same species as the late Shadow Architect. Kabrok wasnt sure what the actual species was called, but he knew that most people referred to them as Albinos.

"Colonel," she said with a slight bow. "The other council members are requesting your presence on the main deck."

The council, Kabrok was regretting that idea of his already. In the absence of a Shadow Architect to control the Proclamation they had set up a council made up of a representative from each species that worked in the organisation. In theory it was a perfect way to ensure that everyone was happy, but in practice it just led to a load of squabbling with nothing getting decided. It didn't help that other members included an Ogron, a very overweight Rackateen – due to eating an Earth doughnut whilst undercover and subsequently becoming addicted – the late Shadow Architects dim younger brother, an Anuran that spent most of the time eating flies – Kabrok didn't think it would be long before he became as fat as the Rackateen – and a Groske who was more keen on distancing himself from his mischievous and cunning Graske cousins than actually getting any work done.

"Very well," he nodded to the servant. "Could you fetch the Plasmavore for me?"

"Shall I get him to wait here?" she asked in confusion.

"No, take him to the main deck," he growled and stomped out of the room before she could say anything else.

* * *

><p>"Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner, that I like London town," the Doctor sang. He stopped abruptly. "But that is inaccurate because London isn't a town, it's a city. Maybe I have the lyrics slightly wrong. Never mind! What do you think of London then?"<p>

Broxa looked around at the bustling London street that they were stood on. "I think I prefer Alnwick," she said honestly.

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "That is understandable, there are many humans that dislike the bustle and noise of big cities," he said. "Too loud for you is it?"

"Grey just like home," she confirmed. "No life like in Alnwick. I don't see any trees."

"There are some," the Doctor insisted. "Not many," he agreed. "But there are some. And to be fair not everywhere on this planet is like this, if it was then all the global warming scares would be genuine; and not just alien plots. This is a demonstration of what human's can achieve given the chance, this is the age where they started to reach for the stars and finally got an answer, not always a good answer granted but they got answers. I imagine Mondas was reaching that stage before it all went wrong."

"I wouldn't know," Broxa responded with a tiny note of sadness. "Mondas has always been like that for as long as I can remember."

"Never mind," the Doctor said loudly, trying to drag her away from the sad direction this conversation was going. "I know what you need. Food, not that rubbish peasant grub, I mean proper food."

"I quite liked it actually," Broxa replied defensively.

"That's because you don't know any better," the Doctor said with a mischievous grin. "Taxi!" He shouted holding up his arm. After fifteen minutes of shouting this a black cab finally pulled up.

They climbed inside and the Doctor ordered the driver to take them to the nearest Michelin star restaurant. "This is a major difference," the Doctor enthused. "On Mondas there was only one vehicle, but here there are so many that there are some that will take you wherever you want."

"There were two on Mondas," Broxa corrected.

"Really, I only ever saw one," the Doctor replied.

"How do think I managed to catch up to you?" She asked rhetorically.

The cab driver drove off, slightly confused by what his passengers were saying, but knowing from experience not to pay too much attention. Not one of them saw the man watching them intently.

_That's him_, the man thought_, travelling with a young female as usual_. He too proceeded to attempt to hail a cab, and like the Doctor discovered that they were not so numerous and, therefore, easy to summon as it appeared in films. It was half an hour before he was able to acquire one.

* * *

><p>The size of the main deck meant that it was impossible for the council to have their discussions in private, there were always other beings rushing about transferring information from place to place or doing menial chores. This was actually a deliberate ploy on Kabrok's behalf to ensure that they could keep up to date with the constantly changing information and so that the council could occasionally have ideas from people with brains; and knew how to use them properly. The late Shadow Architect's brother did not like this arrangement, but there was not much he did like and the others were too busy eating doughnuts, eating flies or complaining about how they were treated badly because of things distant cousins had done, to care. The only one who could have backed him up was Oowook the Ogron, and he agreed with Kabrok. It was a strange situation when the most productive individuals in the council were a Judoon and an Ogron.<p>

"How is it?" Oowook asked once he saw the Judoon Colonel enter, "that you can battle effectively when blind all down your left hand side?"

"By keeping my enemy on the right," Kabrok replied. This was their ritual greeting; Judoon and Ogrons don't go for big comradely hugs.

"You took your time Judoon," the late Shadow Architect's brother said.

"I came as soon as I was summoned Shadon," Kabrok said as he sat down. "I assume that this is about the analysis of Sundew's defences."

"Well I never, you can think," Shadon tittered at his own joke. The other council members rolled their eyes, this was not the first time he had used this joke.

Kabrok did not rise to the jibe, as usual and acknowledged the other council members. "Xanus," the frog headed Anuran nodded his head. "Colsok," the Groske made some comment along the lines of, I bet he only remembers me because I look like a Graske. "Reljax Fortune Mahogany-Brex Rackateen."

"You really do not have to use my full name each time," the purple Raxacoricofallapatorian replied, though he was really pleased that the Judoon was making the effort; Shadon only ever called him Rackateen.

"So," Shadon said in a business like tone. "Sundew has been compromised, we know the ins and outs of their defences. Now is the time to strike. Judoon, you should assemble a fleet of ships and prepare to strike at once."

"That would not be wise," Kabrok said.

"And why not?" Shadon exclaimed. "You have all information on their defences, you know the weaknesses, you should attack immediately!"

"Have you looked at their defences?" Kabrok asked, knowing full well that Shadon hadn't. "We can't just charge in attack, there does not seem to be an obvious weakness that we can exploit."

"What do you mean?" Shadon queried.

"He means that we cannot simply charge in," Oowook clarified, "we might break the space defences with a full frontal attack, but we then are unlikely to get past the ground defences."

"There must be some way through," Shadon said in desperation.

"Maybe," Kabrok agreed, "but we do not know it yet. You have pre-empted us a bit really."

It was at this point that two Judoon entered the room, this was not unusual and would have normally been ignored by the council, it was the figure they were flanking that caused the biggest stir.

"Oh look, it's the Plasmavore," Xanus said nonchalantly, looking up from his dish filled with flies.

"What is he doing here?" Shadon screeched.

"I summoned him," Kabrok said.

"Well what did you do that for?" Shadon exclaimed. "This is a war council, and he is the enemy!"

"An enemy with great secrets, some of which have already been shared and proven to be valuable," the Judoon countered. "Get him a seat," he ordered.

Alkrad sat down gently on a chair that had been fetched for him, never once taking his eyes off Shadon. His imprisonment had severely taken its toll on his body. Lack of blood had left him unable to take on the appearance of another species so he was stuck in his natural form; completely see-through skin and semitransparent bones with all organs eerily clear. He was dressed in a bright green jumpsuit and his hands were tightly handcuffed together; though it looked as if they could go a lot tighter.

"I'm hungry," he said.

"You are our prisoner!" Shadon snarled, but was mostly ignored by the others.

Reljax reluctantly picked up one of his doughnuts with a clawed hand and offered it to the hungry Plasmavore.

Alkrad shook his head. "No, I need blood," he said. "I am lacking in salts and minerals."

Kabrok had expected this, it was what Alkrad always asked for whenever he was called upon, and nodded to one of the Judoon guards who produced a transparent plastic packet (very similar to those used to hold blood for patients in hospital) containing a yellow fluid. A straw was poked through the end and Alkrad took a gentle sip.

"Judoon," he commented and eyed Kabrok suspiciously. "It's not yours again is it?"

Kabrok said nothing and eventually Alkrad drank it all regardless. "So what can I do for you today?" he asked.

"Sundew's defences," Oowook said. "We need to crack it."

"I have told you all the details I know about," Alkrad said patiently. "Surprisingly enough the knowledge of how to break in is not something that have thought about before."

"Well you need to think about it now," Shadon insisted. "You are clearly the only one brainy enough to be able to work out the best way to exploit the frailties."

"I'm not a tactician," Alkrad said harshly. "I'm not a soldier, marine or pilot. I am no great military leader or engineering wizard. I am an assassin. I kill people, I don't launch attacks on heavily guarded military bases."

The council sat in stunned silence for a moment. Xanus lifted his head up and slowly turned it towards the Plasmavore. "You managed to break into the secure base where the Shadow Architect was in order to kill her," he pointed out.

"And the former Colonel," Kabrok agreed.

"That's different," Alkrad said, leaning back in his chair. "I only had to get myself in; undetected. What you want me to do is come up with a battle plan. You're the military minds, you think of a way."

"You are thinking too narrowly," the Anuran said calmly, leaning forwards to stare hypnotically into the Plasmavore's eyes. "Let's imagine that you have been assigned with the task of killing the leader of Sundew. How would you do that?"

Alkrad's eyes widened in shock. "Master Quanchi?" he croaked. "If I was assigned him as my next target I would respectfully tell my Superior that he must be mad, decline the contract and move onto the next one."

"Not Master Quanchi then," Kabrok said with a sigh. "Let's say you are trying to kill another high ranking assassin," and added before Alkrad could come up with another smart response: "And you have to break into Sundew to do so."

"And you haven't got any of your clearance codes to do so," Reljax added, proving that his doughnut eating was all a facade as well. Kabrok gave both him and Xanus quizzical looks, wondering why on Earth they had not chosen to make any useful contributions before.

Alkrad spent a moment pondering. Eventually he spoke up. "There is no way in from space, being in the middle of nowhere they will have plenty of time to see any incoming fleets. Teleporting would not work either, as they have sensors to detect that."

"Yes, thank you very much," Shadon cut in impatiently. "We already know all that. What are you planning to do to get past this?"

"I was getting to that," Alkrad said with a hint of annoyance. "The way I would enter is to try and play those separate systems against one another."

"That won't work," Colsok said.

"Won't it? You don't know what the plan is yet."

"If it involves sending a suicide attack on the space defences whilst simultaneously teleporting in," Colsok clarified. "It will fail. The space forces may get the distracted but the teleport detectors will still work."

"I know that," Alkrad said in irritation. "Let me finish. The plan is to send several small fleets to attack the weak points in the defences, whilst simultaneously sending several small decoy squads to teleport in; meaning that while both systems are busy dealing with those they will miss the real threat. I would then teleport in on my own, a smaller signature that will be missed, and charge through the weakened, unsuspecting ground defence. Very expensive, but I should get paid a lot for someone in Sundew so that would make up for it."

"That would work if you were alone," Kabrok said. "But how will you get a larger group in?"

"I don't know," Alkrad shrugged. "I doubt that even you have the manpower to create decoy groups large enough to mask that of a real group, and that defies the point anyway."

"Some teleports don't give off such a strong signal," Reljax pointed out.

"That's it!" Alkrad exclaimed, a look of realisation on his face. "We use a time travel device! That would create a small enough energy signature to allow the main team to remain undetected!"

"We cannot use such a device," Kabrok said, though it pained him greatly to say so. "That breaks our laws."

Alkrad pulled a face at him. "Please, surely you don't have to abide by certain rules."

"On the contrary," Colsok said. "If we cannot obey our own laws how can we expect others to follow them."

Alkrad hunched back in his seat, sighing loudly out of frustration. "Don't give up yet," Kabrok reassured him. "There is one time travel device that we might be able to use that isn't banned by our laws."

* * *

><p>A siren whirred and several panels moved aside to allow the laser cannons to move into position. Two men came rushing down the corridor and paused just outside the ring that the turrets had created, someone was about to arrive. The sensors had efficiently picked up the teleport signal and were now ready to deal with the intruder should it turn out to be a threat, the two men were just there to ensure that if the person turned out be an assassin he could be updated with all the news as quickly as possible and ensure the system reset itself so that the corridor could still be used.<p>

There was a brief flash and a three legged lizard man appeared. The turrets quickly powered down and slid back into the panels.

"Welcome back Skroldo," the first man said. The assassin made a few unintelligible grunts and snarls. The man blinked in confusion. "What?"

The shorter man stood next to him tsked. "You need to get your translator fixed at some point," he said. "He said that Lord Brakon has been dealt with."

The taller man took an earpiece out of his ear and tapped it a couple of times. "Just needs shocking back into life, that's all," he insisted.

The other man shook his head. "There is still no word about the Doctor, and the Shadow Proclamation have been very quiet, no doubt still struggling without a leader," he informed the assassin.

"Or just squeezing every last drop of information out of Alkrad," the first man said putting his earpiece back in. "Are you staying long?" the assassin said something. "Damn, now its translating into Spanish!"

The shorter man smirked in amusement. "He said: not long, just going to take a quick rest before picking up the next contract."

"Well don't let us keep you," the taller man said, tapping and twisting his translator now. He stood aside as the assassin walked past.

"You need a new one," the shorter man said.

The taller one threw the translator to the ground in despair. "Yes, your right, wouldn't have happened with one of the old ones," he complained. "They were built to last."

Shorty nodded in agreement. "That's budget cuts for you."

"Yes but why are there budget cuts?" lofty asked rhetorically. "The assassins are rolling in it. There shouldn't need to be cuts."

"It's because they are concentrating more money on training up new psychos to go around killing people, and developing new ways to kill," shorty summarised. "They don't care about us porters."

There was a sudden siren, exactly the same as the one that had heralded the arrival of the three legged assassin, and the turrets slid out of the panels in a perfect circle around the pair of porters. They hurriedly moved outside the circle in preparation for the next arrival.

"If it's another creature with no proper mouth, you'll have to do the talking," lofty said.

"I shan't say a word," shorty replied. "I want to see you squirm."

Luckily for the taller porter the figure who appeared was human, or he looked human at least. He stumbled about, not noticing the turrets trained on him, wringing one of his wrists and moaning in pain.

"Bloody Android!" the man exclaimed. "If I ever meet the man who came up with the laws on robotics I am going to have to give him a piece of my mind. Robots can never harm humans or, through inaction, allow a human to come to harm? Why is it that there are so many out there that don't follow that rule then!"

As the man straightened up and turned towards them both porters gasped in shock. But that wasn't possible, he was dead. The man smiled at them cheerfully as the turrets slowly disappeared back into their panels.

"Hello there!" he said. "What's wrong? You look as though you have seen a ghost." He chuckled at his own joke.

The two men looked at one another, unsure how to proceed from here. The Informant didn't know how close to the truth he was.


	29. Shadew 2

Shadew 2

"But it's solid gold," the Doctor insisted.

"You would say that though, wouldn't you sir," the taxi driver said.

Having arrived at their destination they had discovered that they had no money. Always a fast thinker, the Doctor had broken off the spoon attachment from his golden penknife, he had never found much use for that attachment, and had offered that instead. Unfortunately, this no longer being the 11th century, the driver was not swayed by the simple mention of the word 'gold'; the fact that it was a spoon probably didn't help persuade him.

"Look feel it," the Doctor placed it into the man's hand. "Why would I lie about something like this?"

The man felt the weight of it in his hand. It certainly felt heavy enough, and there was something about the Doctor that made him feel that he should trust him. "Even if I did believe you," he said hurriedly, "I cannot accept a lump of metal over money.

The Doctor took the spoon back with a sigh. "Alright," he said. "Take us to a jeweller."

"At this time of night?"

"Or a gold broker, dodgy Des the conman, somewhere I would be able to sell it for cash."

"This world is very complicated," Broxa observed as the taxi sped off once more.

* * *

><p>"How can he be back?" The tall porter whispered to his friend. "I thought he was dead."<p>

"He is dead," shorty replied. "I'm as perplexed as you."

They silently followed the Time Lord as he wandered down the corridor, whistling as he went. A fly headed alien walked towards them, immediately catching the Informant's attention.

"Looking sexy tonight Lucy," the Informant called. She (apparently, lofty could not tell) replied with something unintelligible to lofty's ears and carried on past without a backwards glance. The Informant gazed after her. "One of these days," he promised himself. Then he noticed the two porters staring at him. "Look has someone died that I should be aware of, you both seem very anxious."

Lofty would have laughed at the irony, had it not seemed so tragic; and he was busy puzzling over the interaction with the fly headed alien. Eventually it was the shorter porter that spoke.

"Alkrad has defected," he said.

"Defected!" The Informant's eyes widened with shock. "To the Shadow Proclamation? How?"

"He was betrayed on a mission to kill the Doctor," shorty explained.

"Kill the Doctor?" Now the Informant was even more confused. "What was he doing trying to kill the Doctor?"

Now it was the porters' turns to be confused. "There is an open contract on him," the taller one said. "I thought you knew everything?"

The Informant glanced down at the vortex manipulator on his wrist in shock. "What is the date?" He asked frantically. Lofty told him and he swore profusely. "Bloody hunk of scrap metal! All the same, every single one of them! I had better get this fixed and get out of this time zone as quickly as possible. I don't want to end up running into myself and bring about apocalyptic ruptures in the time vortex."

He began sprinting in the opposite direction leaving the two porters to look at each other in confusion.

"Well that explains how come he was always seemed to know everything that was going to happen," shorty said eventually.

"And how he came back from the dead," lofty agreed. "Perhaps we should keep an eye on him until he needs to go."

Shorty nodded in agreement and they both turned to sprint after him.

* * *

><p>After finding someone to verify that the spoon was in fact made of gold, and exchanged it for the accepted amount, the Doctor was able to pay the taxi driver and get on his way. He and Broxa were now stood at the entrance to one of the fanciest restaurants in the district. Unfortunately there was one thing that the Doctor had not taken into account.<p>

"I am sorry but we are fully booked tonight," the waiter said. "I cannot let you in without a reservation."

The Doctor sighed. "Well that is a shame," he said. "Mr. Gilt is going to be so disappointed."

"Mr. Gilt?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, Reacher Gilt sent me ahead to procure a table for him," he said dramatically.

"Oh, well I'll see if I can find you one then," the waiter said picking up two menus. "Table for two is it?"

The Doctor stared back at him, completely baffled. "You're actually going to do it?"

"Of course," the waiter nodded. "We wouldn't want to upset Reacher Gilt now would we?" he beckoned for them to follow him. Once they were seated he explained the specials and left them to it.

"Reacher Gilt must be very important if simply dropping his name makes them bend their knees to our wills," Broxa commented when she was sure the waiter was out of earshot.

The Doctor didn't answer for a second, struggling to comprehend how a statement that was mostly a joke had worked out so well for them. "That shouldn't have worked. Reacher Gilt isn't real, he's a character from a book, I was merely quoting one of the scenes," he said eventually.

"But if he isn't real," Broxa said, suddenly sharing his confusion, "then how come mentioning him allowed us to get in."

"I have no idea," the Doctor said shaking his head. He then grinned happily. "How exciting!"

* * *

><p>The Informant was working like a man possessed. He had opened up his vortex manipulator and had removed several components that needed repairing or replacing; he only looked up when Lucy the fly headed Tritovore came into the room, but upon seeing him she quickly left. He was aided by the quartermaster and his new assistant who were running around the stores trying to find replacement parts; with limited success.<p>

The new assistant came back with a rhondium crystal, holding it with the care normally reserved for a mother carrying a child. "Is this ok?" he asked.

The Informant took it carefully and examined it. "Perfect," he said. "Just the right size and no cracks or blemishes. Can't you tell?"

The assistant shook his head. "It looked good, but I was trained to assess things for value not functionality," he said. "It will take a bit of time to pick it all up."

"Well you have the right instincts," the Informant said encouragingly. "Just need a bit of fine tuning."

The assistant nodded appreciatively and lifted his hand to his shoulder as if he expected there to be hair there for him to fiddle with, as it was his dark hair had been cut short and neat. The Informant noted this behaviour and added it to his increasing profile. There probably wouldn't be much money in selling information on the quartermaster's assistant, but you never knew. So far he had learnt that he had once been a pawn broker, must have lived on a very cold planet, was used to having long hair and was out of his time. He didn't know his story, but it was bound to be interesting.

"So the rumours are true," a voice said behind him. "The Informant has returned."

The Informant turned and was met with the sight of one of the people he had been hoping to avoid. Superior Caprinite. A tall and broad creature of yellow rock, trailing yellow sand in his wake. He was not overly dissimilar to a Golem of Earth legend, the major difference being that he had a head shaped like a goat and had broad cloven feet. Master Quanchi's number two, Caprinite always seemed to look fragile and crumbling but the Informant knew that he was far from fragile; being a silicon based life form the sand that he trailed around was merely part of his natural respiration process.

"I won't be here for long," the Informant said returning to his repairs. "Accidently landed in the wrong time, you know how it is. Although if you do see the current me running about be sure to prevent him from meeting me won't you."

"I don't think we need to worry about that," Caprinite said gravelly.

The Informant turned to him in suspicion. "Why not?" he queried.

"You're, err he is busy scouting the far reaches of err Dromund Kaas," the shorter porter suddenly jumped up to speak.

The Informant now turned his scrutiny on the porter. "That's from Star Wars you fool," he said coldly. "If you are going to lie you could at least make an effort to do it convincingly. What are you lot not telling me?"

"Well we wouldn't want to be the ones to cause temporal distortions by telling you what is going to happen," the taller porter said.

"You don't cause temporal distortions by doing that," the Informant informed him. "But I understand what you are saying."

Lofty nodded in appreciation. "Then you will understand why we are using a codename that is so obviously fake," he continued.

The Informant's suspicion melted, but was quickly replaced with confusion. "Master Quanchi is now using Star Wars codenames?" he exclaimed.

"Of course he isn't," Caprinite boomed, spraying sand all over the Informant.

"The Master doesn't take much interest in the activities of the informants," shorty jumped in before the Superior could spoil it all.

The Informant nodded in sudden understanding and turned back to repairing his vortex manipulator; missing the two porters gently knocking fists together in a celebratory manner. "One of these days I am going to have to get myself a sonic, laser, gamma, lectra or photon screwdriver," he said to himself. "It will make this sort of thing so much easier."

"So you have nothing for us then," Caprinite said forcefully.

"Oh I have lots for you," the Informant replied hotly. "The problem is you almost certainly already know it."

"We were hoping you would have something on the Shadow Proclamation's intentions," Caprinite stated.

"The Shadow Proclamation?" the Informant finished off his repairs and closed the panel over the top. He pressed a few buttons and it gave a flash as it returned to life. "This future is most intriguing. Thanks for your help..."

"Olljo," the assistant supplied.

"Thank you Olljo, I had better be on my way," he tapped a few buttons on the vortex manipulator and a hologram appeared. He froze upon seeing it. "Actually there might be something that I can sell you."

Caprinite paused at the door and turned back to him. "What does it concern?" he asked suspiciously.

"The Doctor."

Everyone turned to him in shock, including Olljo much to the Informant's surprise. "Did you say: the Doctor?" Olljo asked with wide eyes.

"Yes," the Informant nodded. He turned to Caprinite. "Interested?"

"We would be willing to pay the standard rate," he said levelly.

"Ooh, then I'm afraid I can't give it to you," the Informant made a sucking sound, indicating he was in business mode.

"Why not?" Caprinite growled.

"This is very valuable information," the Informant said, not giving anything away. "And he is a Time Lord. You would have to up the price by... say 100 times."

Caprinite growled and sprayed sand out of his body at high speed. "Do you think we are mad!"

"This is the Doctor we are talking about," the Informant said casually. "The Oncoming Storm, Kin Slayer, the Rotmeister, Merlin, My Sworn Enemy! John Smith, the Caretaker. But I can see you aren't interested." He pressed a few buttons making the hologram disappear, then he held up his arm in preparation for slamming down on the dematerialisation button.

"Wait," Caprinite said grudgingly. "I'm sure we can negotiate."

The Informant lowered his hand and smiled mischievously. "I knew you would see sense."

"We would be able to offer you 25 times the standard value," Caprinite offered, more out of hope than expectation.

"And there was me thinking you were going to negotiate," the Informant said raising his hand once again.

"Alright 40," Caprinite bleated. The Informant's hand remained hovering over the button. He was very skilled in the art of negotiation, people found themselves folding to his preferred value very quickly; the trick was to set the price too high and let them slowly make their way up to the desired value. "50?" the hand moved slightly towards the button. "65! 65!"

The Informant paused. "Is that your final offer?" he queried.

Caprinite gave the impression that he wanted to say yes but wouldn't dare out of fear of what the Informant would say. "70?" he suggested.

"Done," the Informant dropped his arm to his side grinning. He would have said yes to 65 but was not going to say no to an extra five. "You can send me the payment when I return from Coruscant or wherever I have gone."

Caprinite cheered up significantly after hearing this. "Very well," he said. "What is this information regarding the Doctor?"

"He is coming," the Informant said.

"The Doctor is coming here?" Olljo exclaimed. "When?"

"Soon," the Informant responded, not understanding the Quartermaster's assistant's interest. "Can't say when. But he will come soon, and he will not be alone."

"What do you mean he will not be alone?" Caprinite asked suspiciously.

"I mean he will have someone with him," the Informant said. "I cannot say whether it will be a harmless little girl or a fearsome cannibal warrior, or how many there will be."

"It matters not," Caprinite shrugged causing a lot of sand to drop to the floor. "The sensors will pick him up."

"Oh no they won't," the Informant sang.

"What?"

"The scanners will miss him, I don't know how, but somehow he will enter the base undetected."

Caprinite turned to the door. "I had better inform the superiors," he rumbled.

"Do send them my regards, especially the Tritovore faction," the Informant called after him.

Olljo ran off for some reason, the Informant didn't care to ask. He turned to the two porters and gave them a cocky salute before activating his vortex manipulator.

"Do you think we should have told him?" the taller one asked his friend.

"Nah, I certainly wouldn't want to know exactly when and where I die," shorty replied.

There was a siren from down the corridor. "No rest for the wicked eh," lofty commented. And they raced down the corridor to prepare for the next arrival.

* * *

><p>The Doctor licked the air and sniffed. The distortion was definitely somewhere nearby, he could sense it. It needed to be sorted out fairly quickly, people were already acting like characters from the Discworld so it was only a matter of time before the actual characters themselves started to manifest themselves. The Doctor had wasted many hours of his lives reading Discworld books and while they were jolly and humorous there were still some scary monsters that you wouldn't want to meet on a dark night. And of course it was wrong for a fictional character to appear in the real world, that was not where they belonged.<p>

He wandered out of the toilet and followed the scent of the distortion towards the kitchens and ran into Broxa. "What is it?" he asked. "Has a short bloke with a beard suddenly appeared in the restaurant?"

"Worse," she said gravely.

The Doctor studied her carefully. "It's not a spider is it?" He asked.

"No not that bad," she shook her head and shuddered slightly at the memory.

"Dalek? Cyberman? Silurian? Zygon? Slitheen? Malkavore? Yeti? Evil Carnivorous Robot? Though that's a contradiction in terms. Why would a robot be carnivorous, robots by definition do not require nourishment of any kind. Is some alien holding the room hostage? Though if it is, it isn't doing a very good job."

Broxa allowed him to ramble on for a bit before speaking. "I think it is best if you just come and look," she said hopelessly.

Intrigued, yet slightly concerned, the Doctor chose to follow her back into the main dining area of the restaurant. As soon as they entered the Doctor saw exactly what Broxa was referring to and immediately understood. Sat down at a table in the middle of the room were a young couple. The man was quite handsome, average build, dressed in a smart suit and neatly combed, sand coloured hair. The woman – or perhaps girl was a better description – was blonde, her hair gently curled and pinned behind her head, wearing a glamorous, red cocktail dress and glasses, and staring adoringly at the man opposite her. The Doctor felt his hearts clench. It was Lisa.

"It is her then," Broxa said after observing his reaction. "How?"

"The TARDIS is playing up again," the Doctor said slowly. "The same error that forced me to land on Mondas in your time has made us land here on Earth now, rather than a few years down the line. I had wanted to arrive here a few years after Lisa and I left in the first place but instead we have arrived on the night that Harry proposes to her."

"That's Harry!" Broxa realised. She tensed her shoulders and started forwards. The Doctor, realising what she was going to do pulled her back.

"No, you can't do that," he hissed.

"Why not," she said hotly. "The TARDIS has given us a perfect opportunity. We can kill Harry and in doing so save Lisa."

"Maybe," the Doctor agreed with a pained expression. "But there are other events that will be affected by that action. You can't just re-write time as you see fit, that sort of thing leads to monsters from the dungeon dimensions breaking through. Stars, now I'm starting to talk like we are in a Discworld novel. Even if they don't, you change history dramatically. If Harry dies here, then I don't come looking for him and never meet Lisa. And who knows how that will change my personal time line, one companion who was forced to have never met me through a complex alteration of time resulted in me dying. That's not all, what you don't know is that when I first met Lisa, I rescued her from being raped. Who's to say what will happen if I am not there to stop it."

Broxa was slightly taken aback by this long tirade. "It just doesn't seem fair," she complained.

"One of the curses of time travel," the Doctor said sympathetically. He slowly led her back to their table, trying not to attract attention from Lisa or Harry; he needn't have worried as they only had eyes for each other. "Right we are going to sit here, enjoy this meal, and not interfere with them in any way, understood."

She nodded grudgingly. The waiter arrived with their meals and Broxa quickly forgot all about Lisa. She sniffed at the soup and moaned as the exquisite smell threaded through her nostrils and tingled her taste buds. She leant forwards to begin lapping it up when the Doctor stopped her by grabbing hold of her hair.

"Lesson one," he said, brandishing a soup spoon. "How to use a spoon."

* * *

><p>In some dark corner in disreputable area of London, a figure masked by the shadows received a transmission. It was good news, but at the same time displeasing. The figure casually pocketed the communicator and began the long walk towards the restaurant. After decades of avoiding him the organisation which he belonged to had finally decided it was time to confront him once more. The figure did not know whether to laugh or cry. There was no telling how the Doctor would react when coming face to face an agent of one of the most infamous associations in the universe, especially with all the recent assassination attempts.<p>

-break-

The Doctor stepped out of the restaurant and leant against the wall. He had just helped Harry to propose to Lisa, not because he wanted Lisa to get engaged to that psychopath but because he already knew he was going to do it; having seen it whilst sharing in Lisa's flashbacks. He had played his part well, smiling casually and gently steering Harry without raising too much suspicion. Lisa had certainly been completely oblivious, but Harry had looked at him oddly almost as if he knew.

A cyclone of emotions swirled about him. The pain and guilt from discovering that it was in fact him who had pushed Lisa down the path of being Harry's love slave and being unable to stop it. This clashed horribly with the satisfaction of seeing Lisa so happy, she had never been in such a happy state in any of the Doctor's adventures with her. He was proud that while in the long run this event would cause her untold misery he had managed to bring about the single most perfect event in her life. It never occurred to him that Harry would have found the courage to propose to her without his intervention if he had just left them alone, as the third sensation was intensifying. Bio-energy bubbling painfully in his chest once more, giving him heart burn and searing his lungs. Hey maybe it was adding the finishing touches and changing all the organs at last, but that was probably too much to hope for.

He retched and expelled the energy out of his mouth painfully. Once he recovered he did an internal probe with his mind and was disappointed to discover that there were still organs that still belonged to his previous self. But his mind was suddenly clearer, and he was able to sense the being slowly creeping up on him. He whipped his head round and spied a man just exiting the shadows, crouched like a predator and growling deep inside his throat. Tattooed on his goateed face was the unmistakeable symbol of Sundew. _Here we go again._

The man raised his hands, palms facing the Doctor and winced slightly as blades from each digit flipped out of the skin like a cutthroat razor blade (slicing the skin that had entombed them) and pointed out of the tips like claws. The sliced skin knitted itself back together before blood could seep out of the wounds.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at this. "Do they call you Wolverine?" he queried. "Or do you prefer Lady Deathstrike. Probably not as she was a woman actually."

The man snarled in fury. "Do you never get tired of using that line?" he roared. "You should know by now that I am the Panther!"

"Sorry?" the Doctor said in confusion. "We've met before?"

"I have tracked you across time and space," Panther continued. "You blocked me at every turn, outwitted me each time. But not this time. This time I shall be victorious."

"Are you not listening?" the Doctor tried again. "If I've never met you before, yet you have encountered me dozens of times, surely you cannot destroy me now otherwise that will undo all your previous encounters."

"Even when I dragged you into the alternative universe where your science means nothing," Panther continued obliviously, "you still thwarted my attacks and threw me out again. But your pity was foolish, that only allowed me to grow stronger. And now you will die!"

The Panther gave a primal roar and charged at the Doctor, who was still trying to explain the lack of logic in this whole situation, and therefore making no move to defend himself as the steel claws scythed through the air on a collision course with his neck.


	30. Shadew 3

Shadew 3

The Panther gave a primal roar and leaped forwards swinging his clawed hands as if they were claws. The Doctor made no move to stop him, still confused by the Panther's earlier speech. The claw swung in a lethal arc, certain to rip his throat out. Inches before the claws struck there was a loud zap and the Panther suddenly reeled back roaring in pain. There was another zap and the Panther collapsed to the floor.

The Doctor looked down and quickly realised that he was dead; well he had tried to warn him. He looked up to see who had killed him and why. Just in the shadows he could see the smoke from a blaster that had recently been fired.

"Show yourself," the Doctor said calmly, knowing that if the person meant him harm he would have allowed the Panther to kill him.

The shadowy figure took a couple of steps forwards until he was illuminated by the light of pouring out of the restaurant. She was human, or looked human at least, and had dark skin. All her clothes were black: leather boots, tight trousers, shirt and long coat that went to the ground; very much like one worn in the Matrix. Her dark hair was braided tightly into dreadlocks which was pinned behind her head efficiently. Taking the rest of her outfit into account the Doctor was half expecting her to be wearing shades, what she really wore on her eyes was more chilling. One eye was completely bare revealing very dark eyes contrasting vividly with the whites, over the other was an eye patch; but not just any eye patch, it was an eye drive. She was an agent of the Silence.

"Now of all the people in the Universe to rescue me from certain death," the Doctor said conversationally, "I certainly didn't expect it to be an agent of the Silence."

The woman continued to point the smoking blaster at him. "Who says I'm here to rescue you?" she said suggestively.

"Well my suspicions were first aroused when you rescued me," the Doctor responded. "Besides I made my peace with you lot long ago, you never struck me as the types to go against your words."

"Things could have changed since then," she pointed out.

"Yes, I had wondered whether under new leadership you had decided that I wasn't to be trusted and had therefore sent Sundew after me," he agreed. "But that is slightly contradicted by your actions here."

"Maybe we want you alive," the woman said.

"After several years of wanting me dead and then wanting nothing to do with me?" the Doctor questioned sceptically. "Do all agents act like this or are you a unique case? Certainly if I was trying to protect someone I wouldn't try to convince them I was actually a double agent. What's your game?"

"Don't you trust me?" the woman said with a smirk.

"I don't trust anyone," the Doctor said matter-of-factly. "Though I would be more willing to trust if there wasn't a gun pointed in my face!"

The woman smirked again and carefully stowed the blaster away in her long coat. She held up her hands to indicate she hadn't replaced it with some other, even more lethal, weapon. "You got me there," she said casually.

"So what exactly does the Silence want with me?" the Doctor asked.

"Not even going to ask me my name?" she replied with a cheeky grin.

"Do you know what I think of people who answer questions with yet another question?" he responded.

"Like you you mean?" she countered.

The Doctor nodded in amusement. "Yes, like me," he agreed. "Alright, what is your name then?"

She grinned mischievously. "Not telling," she said.

The Doctor sighed, rolling his eyes and raising his eyebrows in annoyance. "Well if you are just here to waste my time I'm going to bid you farewell," he said. "There is a distortion in reality that needs sorting out."

"I wouldn't worry about that," the woman who wouldn't give her name said. "It's already being dealt with."

The Doctor turned back to her in shock. "By who?" he exclaimed.

She put her hand on her chin as if she were thinking deeply about this. "A man wearing a dodgy hat and coat, in desperate need of a shave and singing 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow', the not so cowardly lion and the tin man," she said eventually.

The Doctor stroked his beard defensively. "I have tried shaving, the problem is it just grows back!" He justified. "And I imagine this lion becomes quite cowardly in the face of an eight legged creature."

"An octopus?" The woman raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"Nooo," the Doctor shook his head in despair, "spiders. I'm not sure who this tin man is though."

"That doesn't really matter right now," the woman said trying to change the subject. "I am here because-"

"Isn't there a scarecrow or someone like that?" The Doctor insisted.

"You probably meet him along the way," the woman said in exasperation. "Now, I've been sent-"

"Aha, spoiler!" the Doctor interrupted with a cry of triumph. "That's fifty points to me and you have to spin around five times and sing the alphabet backwards, any mistakes and you have to down a pint."

"How was that a spoiler?"

"You specified that it was me," the Doctor explained. "It could have been anyone up til then. Now do your forfeit!"

"Alright," she sighed in resignation, "you can call me Dorothy."

This made the Doctor burst out with explosive laughter. He barely composed himself in order to create a witty response: "So does that make me the Scarecrow then? Do you fall through the distortion and we have to go and rescue you?" then he doubled over with uncontrollable giggles. Dorothy put her hands on her hips and huffed irritably.

"Perhaps I should have accepted Sundew's offer," she said, perhaps too loudly, to herself.

This sobered the Doctor immediately. "Sundew?" He exclaimed. "You're here with the Shadow Proclamation!"

* * *

><p>The food was gorgeous. Even though Broxa was disliking London for the grey lifeless streets, the inability to pay with anything other than worthless pieces of paper and common as muck metal circles, and the constant, headache inducing, roar of machines; she could not deny that the food here was much better than in Alnwick. If only she could concentrate all her attentions to it.<p>

As she ate she had one eye trained dangerously on the happy couple that was Lisa and Harry. She didn't understand it, Lisa, the kind and gentle yet inherently depressed girl she had met on Mondas, laughing and smiling widely at the man who would go on to kill her. The whole situation was just wrong. If Harry truly wanted her that badly all he needed to do was drag here back to his dwelling and force himself inside her; yet if the woman wasn't willing to take part the men quickly decided it wasn't such a good idea either or suffered the consequences. Yet according to the Doctor all humans took part in this dithering ritual before ever going anywhere near the important part. Broxa certainly had never, or ever intended to, wasted time following any attempts at romance. All the men she had ever had were down to sudden unexpected mutually accepted urges.

This was not to say that love didn't exist on Mondas, many people that Broxa had eaten had displayed extreme versions up until the very end and several cannibals, before and during her time as Mayor, had shown deep rooted desires based on genuine love rather than traditional lusty obsession. These cannibals had concentrated all their efforts on one single individual and made various attempts to woo them. Broxa had been on the receiving end many times but had never returned the deep rooted affections for she saw no need for love. It was a pointless emotion as survival was a much more important activity to concentrate your time on.

Meeting the Doctor and Lisa had helped to build a mistrust for this emotion, she had learnt from them that love led to manipulative bastards like Harry. Even with the Doctor's warnings it was so very tempting to pick up the Doctor's jagged steak knife and slash his throat right here, right now. But she resisted, knowing that Lisa loved him at this point and his sudden murder would make her in an even worse state than she had been on Mondas. That was probably why the Doctor had gone outside, didn't want to tempt himself; coupled with the guilt of having to help instigate the event in the form of giving the champagne.

With the Doctor not here she suddenly found herself drawn to his untouched steak. The huge slab of meat, slowly leaking grease and wafting many enticing aromas, was going cold. It would be a shame to allow it to go to waste, surely the Doctor wouldn't mind. She leant across the table and swapped her plate for his. She marvelled at how easily the steak knife sliced through it and eyed Harry again; it would be so easy to kill him. Instead of doing something rash she placed the chunk of meat she had cut in her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. It was sweet and juicy, she closed her eyes and slowly chewed; all thoughts of Harry temporarily forgotten. Upon opening her eyes she gasped loudly in shock.

Sat across from her in the seat the Doctor had vacated sat a Silent. At first she couldn't place it, but quickly remembered. "You!" she exclaimed.

"Try not to draw attention to us," the Silent hissed.

"You told me to destroy the heart," Broxa said exuberantly, but quietly. "But then I forgot, yet I did it anyway. Why are you manipulating me?"

"Not me," the Silent informed her. "Another of my kind. There used to be so many of us." It said that last sentence with a hint of sadness.

"It doesn't matter who did it," she countered angrily. "You were still xessing around with my head, and that is not something I will allow!"

"Yet had we not done it," the Silent said, "you would have failed."

Broxa paused in shock. In that pause she remembered about the notepad and subtly extracted it from her dress pocket along with the pencil the Doctor had given her to replace the pen that hadn't worked. "You were helping us?" she questioned.

"The Earth was no good to us with the inhabitants extinct before they could be most useful," the Silent said casually. "But we couldn't act ourselves, we needed you to save the town; and with it the Earth."

"So what are you doing here now?" Broxa inquired, surreptitiously scribing away. "Going to force me to do more of your dirty work by xessing with my mind?"

The Silent leaned towards her. "You intrigue me," it said. "Not of this time, or this planet. The mind erase does not work completely, you were able to realise that your memory had been manipulated. No one has ever done that after their first sighting, not even the Doctor."

She shifted uncomfortably. "That wasn't really answering my question."

"I can feel all that pent up rage inside you," it said silkily. "But not for me, no for that man with that woman."

Broxa briefly glanced at Harry and Lisa. "So what," she said.

"What has he done to burn you so much?" it asked.

"He manipulated her," she said softly. "And will kill her."

"And why should you care what he does to her?"

"Does that matter?" she snapped. "You're not going to make me kill him no, the Doctor says it will cause a rupture in the space time thingy; or something like that. I'm not listening to someone who enters people's minds and controls them."

"We don't need to control people," the Silent said nonchalantly. "We simply make suggestions and the humans find it impossible to ignore them. And I do not intend to kill him. I can sense the damage that would cause, I was merely interested. I don't get to talk to people often."

She cocked her head in interest. "Why not?" she asked softly.

She never got a reply. A shadow suddenly loomed over the table and an arm holding a sharp knife suddenly arced down to stab the Silent through the chest. Broxa stared in horror as the knife was removed and slammed back into the chest over and over, the Silent screaming horrifically, its blood flying in all directions. It was over so quickly, yet to Broxa it felt like hours. The Silent became still and the hand holding the blade retracted leaving the blade sticking in its chest. Broxa looked up at the assailant and was shocked to find it was the waiter, looking at her as if nothing had happened.

"Is everything alright madam?" he said politely.

"You killed it!" Broxa exclaimed.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Killed what?"

Broxa glanced back over to where the Silent had been sitting and found that it was gone. She couldn't remember, something had been killed in front of her but she couldn't remember what. She looked down at the notepad and skimmed through the last few notes she had written. She jumped to her feet and ran towards the exit as fast as possible.

* * *

><p>The Doctor scrutinised Dorothy with curiosity. "What is an agent of the Silence doing working with the Shadow Proclamation?" He asked.<p>

"The Silence isn't much of an organisation any more, thanks to you," Dorothy said bitterly. "The few of us that remain have been forced to find work elsewhere, and currently picking a side in the Shadew war seemed the most profitable course of action."

"Shadew war?"

"The war between Sundew and the Shadow Proclamation," Dorothy explained. "The Shadow's new leaders took the attack on the Architect personally and decided to turn all their attentions on removing Sundew from the galaxy. And currently they want your help."

"Well there's a surprise," the Doctor said sarcastically. "Are they incapable of doing anything without me? No doubt they will allow me to go it alone only to charge in all guns blazing just as I am about to succeed; that is what happened last time after all. Whatever it is they want they can do it by themselves."

"You don't even know what they want yet!" Dorothy exclaimed.

"I have been around long enough to know what the Shadow Proclamation are like," the Doctor said casually. "Besides, for all I know this whole 'we work for the Shadow Proclamation, we're good guys now' claim could be an act. You could simply be lulling me into a false sense of security so you can trick me into dying at a fixed point again. You could be the very people who submitted the contract on me in the first place." He turned and started to stroll back towards the entrance to the restaurant. "If it's all the same to you I have a steak that my hungry companion is probably about to eat, and haven't had a good steak for ages."

He paused at the door and turned back to the agent as if he had just remembered something important. "Could you send my regards to Kovarian," he said. "I hope her latest death wasn't too painful for her."

He turned back to the door and came face to face with Broxa; she had a look of mild horror on her face. "Hello beautiful," Dorothy said flirtatiously.

The Doctor gave her an odd look. "Does the Time Agency only accept omni-sexuals into its ranks, or do they teach you that as part of your basic training?" he queried.

Dorothy seemed slightly taken aback by his supposition, but quickly composed herself. "Why can't I simply be gay?" she asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "You can contradict me if you want, it was only a guess." She didn't say anything else. He turned back to Broxa. "What are you doing here?"

She held up the notepad showing the page she had recently covered in writing. "It happened again," she explained.

The Doctor turned to Dorothy with a dangerously calm expression. "You really aren't doing your best to persuade me to trust you," he stated.

"I don't control what they do," she said defensively.

"Oh, well that's alright then," he said with mock happiness. He turned back to his companion. "What did it do?"

Broxa glanced at the notepad. "It spoke to me," she said. "It was curious about me?"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "In what way?" he queried.

"Something about the mind erase not working properly."

"You mean you remember them even when you look away?" Dorothy exclaimed in surprise.

"No, she still forgets them," the Doctor corrected, "she just has the sense to notice when she has been made to forget something."

Dorothy's visible eye widened in surprise. "No wonder he was so interested in you," she said. "Where is he now?"

"Who?" Broxa asked in confusion.

"The Silent," the Doctor said. "The alien that you were just talking to."

Broxa screwed up her face. "He's dead."

"Dead?"

"The waiter just came over and stabbed him!" she exclaimed.

The Doctor coughed guiltily. "Yeah, he must have watched the first moon landing at some point," he said. "They had invaded Earth and were manipulating the entire population so I sort of tricked them into ordering all the humans to kill them on sight; didn't expect it to still be happening."

"That's a shame, his company was quite agreeable," Dorothy commented, in a tone that suggested that it wasn't a shame at all.

"So this is not some sort of hysteria or mind control?" Broxa questioned.

"No just an unfortunate reminder of a previous adventure," the Doctor shook his head, he turned back to the agent. "If that is everything we are just going to be returning to our meal now."

"Look I don't know any of the specifics," Dorothy said frantically, "but the Judoon said that you are vital in their upcoming attack on the Sundew base."

The Doctor paused and turned back to her. "Even better, a Judoon in charge of the Shadow Proclamation," he drawled.

"He said that he was an old friend of yours," Dorothy tried.

The Doctor frowned. When would he have ever done anything with a Judoon to justify one of them thinking of him as an old friend. He was tempted now to go along with it just to find out who it was; Broxa helped to fuel this train of thought.

"Isn't Sundew that group who are trying to kill you?" she asked.

He nodded slowly. "The Shadow Proclamation are going to attack Sundew?" he questioned.

"That is what he said," Dorothy nodded. She sighed dramatically. "Well, I had better just tell him that you won't help and that he will have to launch the attack without you."

The Doctor spotted the obvious attempt to entice him so feigned a continued disinterest. "Either way," he said dispassionately. "The TARDIS hasn't been very reliable lately, I tried to get to Sundew before but arrived at the birth of the Cybermen, I even arrived too early here; certainly didn't want to run into Lisa again like this. I'm sorry, I don't want to find myself materialising in the middle of a Sontaran war council, or a Slitheen banquet."

"Well I might be able to help you with that," Dorothy said slyly.

"And what do you know about TARDIS engineering?" The Doctor asked sceptically.

"Nothing," she admitted. "But I have a shuttle on standby. I could transport both your TARDIS and you to the Shadow Proclamation base with it."

The Doctor thought about this for a moment. After a few seconds he nodded. "Ok, you have persuaded me."


	31. Shadew 4

**Author's note: thanks for those of you that**** read and reviewed the previous chapter, apologies for being slightly late, very busy day yesterday (part of the record breaking 83,761 that attended Saracens vs Harlequins at Wembley if you're interested) but enough about me, let's return to the action...**

* * *

><p><span>Shadew 4<span>

"Why is it that you are dressed like a peasant girl?" Dorothy asked Broxa as she glanced back at her from the driving seat.

The cannibal looked down at herself. "Just the dress I was given when we went to Alnwick," she shrugged.

"And you haven't felt the need to change?" Dorothy questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"The Doctor never changes his clothes," Broxa replied defensively.

"Yes but he is a Time Lord, and a man," Dorothy dismissed. "Surely you would like to slip out of those dirty clothes and put on something that is not only cleaner, but looks better."

"On Mondas looks and cleanliness are not especially important," the Doctor chimed in.

"You mean you know nothing about fashion!" Dorothy exclaimed. Broxa shook her head. "I'm going to have fun with you I can tell. Brace yourselves, we're just exiting the atmosphere."

The shuttle juddered and shook forcing the ex-time agent to concentrate completely on the controls. She gritted her teeth in determination as she struggled to keep the spacecraft under control. After what seemed like an hour the shuttle steadied once more as it finally broke out of the atmosphere and into orbit. Broxa gazed out of the porthole she was sat alongside and gasped in wonder.

"Doctor, are you seeing this?" She exclaimed excitedly.

"I've seen it before," the Doctor replied without looking. "Won't be as good as it used to be, but still beautiful nonetheless."

And it was. Broxa gazed down at the wonder of the Earth from space; illuminated by reflecting light from the sun. The sea was bright blue and the clouds pearl white, swirling about like smoke, the land giving off a variety of greens, browns and greys. It was very possible to believe that the Earth was alive.

The Doctor smiled and leant back in his seat, gently tilting his hat over his eyes. It was going to be a long trip, so a good chance to catch up on some sleep; and hopefully meet up with the first Doctor one more.

* * *

><p>Splash, splash, splash, plop. Splash, splash, splash, plop. The Doctor lifted the corner of his hat up to survey the scene around him. He no longer sat inside the cramped cockpit of Dorothy's shuttle, instead he was sat on a deck chair in a wide expanse of desert; the dull bronze sand spreading in all directions. Splash, splash, splash, plop. No, not a desert. He twisted his head and spied an expanse of water, like the sea but it was completely still, there were no waves or tide. Stood a little further down the beach was a man skimming stones.<p>

He was completely bald, wore a camouflage jacket, blue jeans and red converses. He was leaning forwards in order to be in the best position for the stone skimming. Splash, splash, splash, splash, splash, plop. The Doctor looked up and down the beach but found it to be completely bare other than himself the man and the deck chair. He stood up and strolled up to the man. Splash, splash, splash, splash, splash, splash, plop. Splash, splash, plop. Splash, splash, splash, splash, splash, splash, plop.

"So where did you get the stones from?" He asked politely. The man paused mid throw and slowly straightened with a grunt. He turned around and the Doctor instantly recognised him.

The man was old and wrinkly and had weary ancient eyes. If the Doctor looked deep enough he could tell that they were the same eyes that he had seen on the first Doctor, the colour of the pupils, the only part a human would notice, may have changed but the very centre, the retina, remained the same; the only difference was that they were now much older. It was the previous Doctor.

"This is a dream you fool," Previous said bluntly. "If I want stones, there will be stones."

The Doctor nodded and surveyed the surroundings some more. "Why here?" He asked.

"That isn't relevant," Previous dismissed. "You need help-"

"Why a beach? Why here?" The Doctor continued to wonder aloud. "First didn't resort to anything like this, he spoke to me in Alnwick. Why aren't you speaking to me on the shuttle?"

"Does that really matter?" Previous moaned. "Maybe it's too cramped in the shuttle for me to do what I want to do."

"All you have to do is talk," the Doctor pointed out. "You could just sit next to me and tell me what needs to be said."

"As I said: that isn't important," Previous insisted. "What does matter is what we have to talk about."

"And why a beach?" The Doctor continued regardless. "We could have gone anywhere, a park in the middle of England, King's Cross station, or perhaps London Euston as that is where she meant; even though there is still no barrier between platforms nine and ten, only an expanse of track. Honestly, for all the fame she gets for her story it is amazing how much lack of attention to detail is involved. Can't be too angry with her mind, would never have saved the world without her inspiration all those times, and she did get everything else right about King's Cross."

"WILL YOU PAY ATTENTION!" Previous roared. The Doctor nodded meekly.

Previous straitened his jacket and cleared his throat. "As our first incarnation explained we are here to lend you a hand," he said. "We are not here to tell you the things that you don't know, as we don't know them either. We are to help you remember those subconscious thoughts that you have long forgotten."

"But you cannot simply tell me what they are," the Doctor noticed.

Previous nodded. "There are certain rules that have to be obeyed when conversing with your own mind."

"Oh? Does it destroy my mind or something?"

"You do not know, but it is best not to tempt fate," Previous explained.

"Right," the Doctor nodded in understanding. "First said that my regeneration number was important."

"It is," previous nodded. There was silence between them for a few seconds.

After realising that his previous incarnation was not going to say any more, the Doctor broke it. "Are you going to enlighten me or do I have to guess that as well?"

"The important point is which number you are on," Previous said through gritted teeth. "Once you work that out then the reason it is important will become clear to you. What part of 'I cannot simply tell you' do you not understand."

"You never said that actually," the Doctor pointed out. "I was the one who inferred that from your clues; see I am taking this seriously."

"I never said you weren't," Previous growled.

"Nebulae, was I really this miserable in my previous life," the Doctor commented.

"At least I'm not an easily distracted young fool who needs a shave," previous retorted.

The Doctor slapped his hand over his facial hair protectively. "I have tried that," he pleaded, "it just grows back. And don't say that's what is supposed to happen, you're my sub-consciousness, you know what I mean when I say that."

"We are getting distracted!" Previous asserted. "You had better pay attention as this next part is important."

"How can I get distracted here?" The Doctor questioned looking around. "There is nothing here to distract me. I'm not going to suddenly kneel down and start examining each grain of sand individually, there are no stones to tempt me into skimming, you seem to have shanghaied them all, though that's probably not the right word, there is nothing. If look that way you don't see any interesting formations, you just see endless sand. And over in that direction you just see endless sand. The only direction where you don't see this is over there where all you can see is the sea; and even that is not interesting. There is no tide-"

The Doctor whipped his head back round as previous suddenly began to scream in pain. Previous stood, arms outstretched and mouth opened wide screaming relentlessly. The Doctor himself opened his mouth wide in shock and fear; did this mean that something was attacking his mind?

"Wake me up!" the Doctor shouted to the sky. "I need to get out there and find out what is going on! Let me out!"

He shouted and cursed but he remained stubbornly fixed inside this dream world. "I'm getting to old for this," the previous Doctor said weakly before resuming the screaming. A thin line of light appeared down the centre of his face and slowly spread down his body until it cut him cleanly in half. It slowly grew brighter and brighter and then the most disturbing thing happened, the previous Doctor's separate halves began to split away from each other. As they split the scream increased in pitch until it was just a high pitched squeal. Completely separate they began to change, growing the missing half of their body whilst the half that was already there slowly morphed to fit with the new shape that the bodies were taking. The squeal deepened to accommodate the new voice of the two bodies; they then stopped simultaneously and brushed themselves down in unison.

Both men were identical: tall and broad with very proud, majestic features. The most notable thing about the two figure was that they both had long, curly, blonde hair. The transformation was not restricted to the physical appearance, their clothes had also changed and once again they were identical. Stripy trousers, smart waistcoat, a blue cravat tied in a bow at the collar of the shirt and a long coat with a cat shaped broach on his lapel. But the colours were different. The one on the right had yellow trousers, a purple and blue zigzagged waistcoat and a rather tasteless coat of many colours; predominantly shades of red. The one on the left had grey trousers, a black waistcoat and a respectable blue coat. They looked at one another and nodded appreciatively.

"What the hell was that!" the Doctor exclaimed.

Both men turned to him in shock. "You didn't get it?" the man in the multicoloured coat said in shock. "You of all people should have understand it."

"But Previous was just standing there!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Then he just split in two! What is happening?"

"That was part of the trick," blue coat said.

"So you're trying to make me lose my mind are you?" the Doctor questioned.

"No we're trying to be helpful," multicoloured coat said moodily.

"How is this helpful? One minute I was talking to myself, and now I am talking to two random twins..." the Doctor trailed off as something clicked inside his head. Both men were very familiar. He scrutinised them again more carefully, once he got a good look at their eyes he knew. "You're me again aren't you."

Both identical incarnations of the Doctor puffed up in pride. "That is correct," multicoloured coat said. "We are the bravest..."

"Most intelligent..." blue coat added.

"Most elegant..."

"Strongest..."

"Most passionate..."

"Noblest..."

"And modest?" The Doctor suggested.

The blonde haired men sensibly chose not to comment on this remark. "But they aren't what's important," multicoloured coat said.

"Which one are you?" The Doctor wondered aloud. "One of my earlier ones, or maybe a later one. Yes a later one, but only just."

"Actually we are one of your earlier incarnations," blue coat corrected.

"But the latest early one," multicoloured coat added.

"Aha," the Doctor clapped his hands in triumph. "Number six!" Both sixes nodded appreciatively. "But there is one thing I don't understand."

He stepped forwards and regarded the one in the multicoloured coat. "Now I remember this coat vividly," he said, as if it were a painful memory. "Outlandish, tasteless and making subtlety impossible."

"It was the height of sartorial elegance," multicoloured six bristled.

"No it wasn't," the Doctor said gently. "I just said that as an excuse. But it was my coat, so I wore it with pride." Now he turned to the one wearing the blue coat. "But I certainly don't remember ever wearing that."

"You started wearing it when you went to Chronos in order to fix the divergent time line that the Cybermen had caused," blue six explained.

"When I did what?" The Doctor asked in confusion. "I've never done anything like that I'm certain of it."

"We wouldn't lie about something like that," blue six retorted.

"Wouldn't you?" The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "From where I'm standing it could easily be an attempt to prove that I did have some taste in clothing when I was in my sixth life, when we both know that this wasn't the case." He looked at the one wearing the multicoloured coat when he said this.

"Perhaps we should turn our attentions to the important points," multicoloured six suggested.

"Yes," blue six agreed. "We are getting distracted."

"Well whose fault is that?" The Doctor asked rhetorically. "I didn't show up here in the wrong clothes and expect you to just accept it."

"Is there anything about us that you noticed when we appeared?" multicoloured six asked.

"Other than the fact I am in an alternative coloured costume," blue six added.

"You both looked very smug for no apparent reason," the Doctor shrugged.

"I was referring to our actual appearance in this dream."

"What you mean previous suddenly exploded leaving me chatting with you?" The Doctor questioned. "Not sure who was worse, him or you."

The sixes looked abashed by this but decided not to press the issue. "Does that not mean anything to you?" Multicoloured six questioned.

"Well I was concerned that something was attacking my mind at first, but now I realise it was just a tool to get my attention and replace previous with an incarnation that I would be able to converse with more easily," the Doctor said. "Though it would probably have been better if you had gone for one of my more tolerant incarnations."

"No," blue six said in a tone normally reserved for idiots.

"Well what was I supposed to see?" The Doctor exclaimed.

"You don't understand it?" Multicoloured six questioned.

"No," the Doctor shook his head. "Don't tell me this is another one of those things you cannot tell me."

"It was a clue, there is not much point if we just tell you what it means."

"Well could you show me again," the Doctor suggested. "I wasn't paying that much attention, too busy being concerned about my mind possibly being attacked."

The two sixes looked at one another in despair. "You would have thought our own future would be able to keep up with us," multicoloured six said.

"Well we had better show him again then," the other said in resignation.

"Thank you," the Doctor said politely.

"We are not happy about this," blue six replied. "Your previous life's pain must have been evident."

The Doctor nodded and watched closely as the two copies of his sixth incarnation took a few steps apart and threw back their arms as if they were regenerating and began to scream. Just like with the previous Doctor a line of light slowly appeared on the middle of their faces which spread down the front of their bodies. The Doctor watched, slightly disturbed, as the sixth Doctors split in half and the halves slowly morphed into new men. Once the process was complete the Doctor found himself looking at four identical copies of yet another of the Doctor's earlier incarnations.

Each man looked to be in his fifties with curly white hair and a rather large pointy nose; it wouldn't be hard to imagine him as a scarecrow thanks to this feature. They each wore rather ornate outfits involving smart trouser, a frilled shirt, bow tie or in one case a cravat. Three of them wore smoking jackets, coloured red, black and green, while the one with the cravat had a long caped jacket; not dissimilar to robes teachers traditionally wore in the past – though no one is sure exactly when they did this.

Unlike with the sixth Doctor the Doctor recognised this Doctor immediately. "Well well," he said. "It's the Dandy."

"Oh not you as well," all four groaned in unison.

"Alright then," the Doctor nodded, "would you prefer the compulsive liar instead?"

"Why can't you just use my incarnation number?" the one in the red jacket asked.

"And since when have I been a compulsive liar?" the one in the cape added.

"Thousands of years old," the Doctor stated simply, the four Dandies look at one another guiltily. "Now I am thousands of years old, but you were a merely hundreds of years old at that time."

"And you haven't exaggerated slightly on certain facts?" green jacket challenged.

"There is exaggeration and then there is blatant lying," the Doctor replied. "I mean thousands wasn't even close. What were you thinking, they would have been just as impressed if you _had_ told the truth. Admit it number three, you were just showing off."

"You talk as if it wasn't you at all," black jacket noted.

"Well of course it wasn't me," the Doctor scoffed. "I was only born about a week ago."

"Yes but you were me, you must surely remember what was going through our head at the time."

The Doctor shrugged. "I think the fact that I do not know suggests that Woolly, or perhaps Googly, was ashamed of the memory and hid it away. Perhaps its best I don't know actually, some things are better left unsaid. Unless of course you are deeply and passionately in love with someone, then it is important that you shout it out to him or her as often as you can; there is nothing worse than being in love and the person of affections not knowing or being completely oblivious."

"Sorry?" red three interrupted in confusion. "Who are Woolly and Googly?"

The Doctor paused, grateful for the interruption. "Woolly was the one with the curly brown mop of hair and the scarf that could reach across the English channel; now that was a good use of an exaggeration. The scarf obviously wasn't that long but I was emphasising its length and adding a bit of humour to the description."

"And Googly?" green three interrupted before he could really go on a rant.

"He was the one who dressed like a cricketer," the Doctor explained.

"Why don't you just call them four and five?" caped three questioned.

"After living so long the numbers have become a bit of a blur," the Doctor explained. "It is much easier if I give them all nicknames."

"Makes it difficult for us though," black three pointed out, "we don't know who all your nicknames refer to."

"Well most of them should be quite easy to work out," the Doctor justified. "You're the Dandy, First is... well First actually."

"Why does he get his number?" red three asked.

"Well he was the first of us, he is the wisest, and none of us have ever shown any antipathy towards him," the Doctor explained. "It is a mark of respect. And what else would I call him? Old man? No that would be very disrespectful."

"You call me Dandy," the three's chorused.

"It isn't a direct insult like old man would be," the Doctor replied. "And Second and First called you it too."

The fours raised their eyebrows at this last statement. "So two gets his number as well does he?" caped three exclaimed. "He's the one that allowed us to get exiled to Earth!"

"No actually I call him the Clown, I thought it would be easier for you if I referred to him by his number as there are a few others that that nickname would be suitable for."

"Look I think we have distracted ourselves for long enough," red three said.

"Yes," green three agreed. "Do you understand what we have shown you now?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Not unless you're trying to tell me that I am like one of those broomsticks from the Magician's apprentice," he said, "meaning that when I get cut in half I become two younger versions of myself. Or I am foreshadowing a very painful death. Actually that doesn't sound so bad because once the regeneration kicks in there will suddenly be two of me, and two Doctor's can hardly be a bad thing."

The threes shook their heads. "You would not be able to do it," black three said.

"Just like we can no longer do it," red three added.

"Hmm, curiouser and curiouser," the Doctor said thoughtfully. He shrugged and turned back towards the deckchair. "I'm sure I'll work it out eventually, but the shuttle has probably arrived by now."

"You can't go now!" caped three exclaimed. "Not when you're so close."

"It has been lovely chatting with you, but I have lingered here for long enough," the Doctor replied, not willing to be swayed in any way. He sat down on the deck chair leant back and tilted his hat over his eyes. He felt a finger prodding him on the shoulder. "Look I've already told you, I'm going back."

"Doctor?" the Doctor was surprised when he heard a female voice answering him. He tilted his hat back and found himself face to face with Broxa.

"Oh good I'm back," he said cheerfully, sitting up straight. "Are we nearly there?"

"We're just docking," she nodded.

He had timed it perfectly, Dorothy was just guiding the shuttle down into one of the landing bays. Now he could find out exactly what the Shadow Proclamation wanted with him this time, and who it was that claimed to know him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: yes that's right, yet another extra long part. The final battle of the Shadew war is about to commence.<strong>

**The sixth Doctor's blue outfit is based on some fantastic work on Deviant art. Apparently he did wear it on a few audio adventures and novels, but their part in canon is up for debate so I've taken the executive decision to exclude them from my universe. The only stories that are not TV that will be included in my canon will be ones involving the eighth Doctor, as there is only one TV involving him, and certain novels that I will point you to if I ever reference them. **

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know what you think.**


	32. Shadew 5: Battle Plans

Shadew 5: Battle Plans

Kabrok watched as the shuttle slowly descended. He had ordered several Judoon to act as an honour guard for the Doctor's arrival and they all now stood smartly to attention; whatever you said about Judoon they were good at following orders from their superiors. He saw agent Dorothy swagger down the now open rank, no doubt making some cocky comment to the assembled Judoon. As much as he disliked her attitude, she was one of the only genuine allies he had gained in his time as the Colonel. Or that was what he believed at least.

He turned his attention to the other people who were now exiting the ramp. He did not recognise the short black haired female, he supposed that she was the Doctor's current travelling companion, who swayed slightly on her feet; clearly she was not used to the artificial gravity of the space station. As she continued cautiously she glanced over her shoulder at the other figure who was exiting the shuttle. Kabrok grinned slightly once he saw who it was. The Doctor.

Exactly the same as when he had last seen him, striding purposefully with a slight smile on his face. He paid the Judoon no heed other than to explain what they were to his companion; or he assumed that was what he was saying.

He turned to his personal guards, they were all Ogrons. Noticing that Kabrok was struggling to build up any allies, Oowook, the leader of the Ogrons, had offered some of his own men to him. He said that he recognised a fellow military man and that Kabrok's involvement was vital in the Shadow Proclamation's future. While this may be true, Kabrok was bright enough to realise that this also allowed Oowook to watch his every move and the power to remove him should he decide to do so. At the first opportunity the Judoon Colonel had made it clear to each Ogron that he would not treat betrayal very kindly, fear would keep them in line; but he had also bribed just to make sure.

"You are to treat him with respect," he said to them. "He is vital to our plans and will disappear if he is disinclined to help us."

The Ogrons nodded in affirmation. Satisfied he turned back towards the shuttle where he saw that the party had almost reached him. He ignored Agent Dorothy's cocky greeting, instead maintaining his gaze on the Doctor.

"Greetings Doctor," he said. "It is good to see you again."

* * *

><p>The Doctor noted the honour guard of Judoon, the Shadow Proclamation was clearly trying to impress him. This of course led to the question: what do they want this time? Obviously quite a lot considering all the attempts to impress him, no doubt he would now be greeted by some boot licking secretary.<p>

He was wrong in this particular guess, it was actually a battle hardened Judoon flanked by several Ogrons. As Judoon went this one wasn't particularly fearsome, his horns were short and stumpy, but he had clearly faced many a fight and came out successful; as shown by the patch over one of his eyes.

"Miss me Colonel?" Dorothy asked the Judoon cheekily. "Didn't have to call out the troops just for me."

The Colonel ignored her, instead he stared intently at the Doctor with his good eye. It was strange, normally when people looked at him like that they were assessing how much of a threat he was going to be. This Judoon looked as if he were assessing him for any injuries if anything.

"Greetings Doctor," he said. "It is good to see you again."

Again? When had he met this Judoon before? Well he had encountered the Judoon as a species several times in the past, maybe this Judoon was one of them and had risen through the ranks since then. Or maybe this was another one of those timey-wimey moments: he hadn't met this Judoon before but as far as the Judoon was concerned they had shared many adventures together. Yes that was probably it, River Song all over again.

"You don't remember me do you," the Judoon said sadly. Blimey he was sharp, not often that you get a Judoon who could spot emotions on people's faces.

"Afraid not," the Doctor replied, well there was no point in denying it. "But I am sure that we are going to have fun together, just don't tell me what we do, spoilers and all that."

"You helped me catch the Plasmavore," the Judoon explained. "Sheltered me from him after he took my eye and taught me the merits of good cop, bad cop."

Like a light bulb suddenly going off he realised. "You're the captain who was trying to catch Alkrad!" he exclaimed. "You have done well since then," he complimented. "What was your name again, Kuh something."

"Kabrok," Kabrok responded with a slight grin. "I have been looking forward to working with you again."

"I haven't agreed to anything yet," the Doctor replied with a grin. "So how is our blood-sucking friend? Singing like a canary?"

"He has masterminded our entire upcoming assault," Kabrok stated.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "You allowed him to plan all of it?" he exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes," Kabrok said as if it were obvious.

"So the fact he's a convicted criminal and a former assassin at Sundew wasn't a big enough clue?" the Doctor questioned.

"You wanted us to use him," the Judoon countered.

"To give you information yes," the Doctor nodded. "Not to plan the entire thing."

"Alkrad has proven himself to be very trustworthy," Kabrok responded. "All information he has given us has been checked and double checked. We obviously wouldn't give him complete freedom."

"Alright," the Doctor conceded. "What exactly is my involvement?"

"Your involvement is critical to the mission," Kabrok stated. "I was under the impression that you were heading for Sundew anyway so thought it would be useful for you to come along with us."

"I was," the Doctor nodded uncertainly. He shifted his gaze to Broxa who refused to meet his gaze. "Got a little sidetracked."

Kabrok missed the undertone of sadness. "Come, I shall take you the briefing room," he said.

Kabrok strode very briskly, even the Doctor struggled to keep up, but there was no problem as the Ogrons flanking them knew the way as well. As they walked Dorothy decided to continue conversing with Broxa.

"Is that a scar or something?" she asked.

"What?" Broxa returned her inquiring stare with one of confusion.

"Your cheek," Dorothy pointed at her own cheek in demonstration. The Doctor also glanced over to see what she meant. The skin across her right cheek, spreading from the corner of her mouth was pale and cracked almost like a reptile's scales. When he had first seen her he had put it down to lack of vitamins and minerals due to only eating people and scavenged meat, but now that Dorothy had mentioned it he realised that this could not be the case. While the rest of her face had taken a lot of colour since then this cracked area had remained stubbornly pale.

Broxa rubbed the area and shrugged. "I've had it all my life."

"Since you were born?" Dorothy questioned, startled.

"Is that the only area that's like that," the Doctor asked a lot more calmly.

"Just there," Broxa said, slightly disconcerted now. "Is it bad?"

"No probably not," the Doctor responded, causing Dorothy to sigh in relief. "Had it covered a lot of your body it would be a cause for concern, but seeing how small the area is and how old you are it is most likely nothing to be concerned about."

They continued in an uncomfortable silence.

* * *

><p>"I do not know what his part is in all of it but it must be important for Kabrok to have concentrated so many resources on locating him."<p>

"You have done well," the figure in shadows said into his communicator. "Can you confirm when exactly the attack will take place."

"For all we know it may not happen at all, you know what the Doctor is like."

"That I do," the figure agreed. "We shall be ready for when it does come."

"Our bargain?" the traitor over the radio barked before he could be cut off.

"We are honourable," the figure replied without missing a beat. "You shall get exactly what you deserve."

"Thank you Master Quanchi," the traitor said before the transmission ended.

"What have you promised him Master," one of the assembled Superiors asked.

The shadowy figure of Master Quanchi shifted about so that the area that might have been his head was facing the one who had spoken. "A place on our council," Quanchi answered. "He is to become a Superior."

There was an angry muttering which was quickly subdued when they all remembered whose idea it was. One of the braver ones, one of the higher up Superiors who had won a lot of favour with the Master over the years, spoke what was on everyone's mind.

"You can't seriously be considering allowing one of... them onto this council," the creature that was like a snake with three heads stuttered.

The Master was silent for a long time. The snake began to sink in its seat. "Do not worry," Quanchi said eventually. "Even if our friend survives the battle he will suffer a terrible, tragic accident. You didn't think I would really allow him to join our ranks did you?"

They all laughed as if it had been a stupid suggestion, whilst secretly sighing with relief. There was a sudden gust of wind and Master Quanchi was no longer sitting in his seat bathed in shadows. Stood in the middle of the room was a figure, shaped like a human but it was impossible to know for sure without removing the long, hooded black cloak that hid his entire body.

"Summon your charges Superiors," the figure spoke with the Master's voice, revealing to those who had never seen him before that this was Master Quanchi. "The battle is at hand, we must be prepared!"

His arm shot up as fast as lightning, a thin silver line shot out from the end which slammed into a statue that rocked on its feet a few times before shrinking down into nothing with a sound of crumbling stone. _Oh yes Doctor_, the Master thought, _I shall be waiting for you, and this time you will not escape me._

* * *

><p>It was the exact same room that the Doctor had always gone to whenever he had visited the Shadow Proclamation in the past. The main deck was teeming with life forms rushing about on business, but he was drawn to the table in the middle around which sat five beings. The Anuran and the Rackateen mostly ignored him, instead concentrating on their food of choice. The Albino eyed him suspiciously whilst the Ogron remained completely impassive, which was surprising considering his history with their respective species. The fifth looked up at him and spoke before he could say anything first.<p>

"No I'm not," Colsok shouted. "I'm sick of people making that assumption about me!"

"You're not a Groske?" The Doctor said in surprise. "I'm not normally wrong about that sort of thing. What are you then?"

Colsok looked as if he had just been slapped. "I am a Groske," he said in surprise. "Everyone else assumes I am a Graske."

"Really?" The Doctor said in surprise. "But surely everyone can tell the difference between the cunning, sneaky and mischievous Graske and the blue, clever and persuasive Groske."

"As fascinating as this is," the Albino interrupted scornfully. "But we brought you here for business, not idle chit-chat."

"But I am interested in how you are running this joint," the Doctor pleaded, "now that the Shadow Architect is gone and this Judoon is in charge."

The Albino gained some colour to his skin in fury. "That brainless buffoon is not the leader! By rights I should be the leader!"

"Why you?" Broxa asked sceptically.

The Albino now began to shake with fury. "I am the Shadow Architect's brother. I was the next in line to take up her mantle when he," he pointed a shaking, accusing finger at Kabrok, "he stopped it from happening."

"You agreed to it Shadon," Kabrok said.

"That's a stupid way to decide a leader," Broxa exclaimed. "The strongest should be the one to take control. Kabrok here is the most suited."

"An interesting philosophy," the Anuran said as if he weren't very interested at all, his gaze remaining fixed on his flies. "What would you say if I told you that there is no one leader."

"Well that's even more stupid," she replied. "There has to be a leader."

"They are all the leader," the Doctor explained, having worked it out after Shadon's outburst. "It is a council that leads collectively."

Broxa frowned, struggling to understand this concept. "But who makes all the decisions?"

"They decide together," the Doctor said patiently.

"Yes," Broxa nodded impatiently, "but who makes the final decision? After coming up with each idea who chooses which one to follow first?"

The Doctor frowned. "I don't know." He turned to Kabrok for guidance.

"We haven't decided that yet," the Judoon said uncomfortably.

"Well it should be me!" Shadon shouted. "I am the rightful leader, I only agreed to this because I was promised overall authority."

"No you weren't," the Ogron spoke for the first time with scorn. "You just assumed that that would be the case."

"As interesting as this all is," the Doctor interrupted. "But can we possibly get back to the matter at hand. Well I never, normally it is others who are interrupting me for going off topic. Must be my regeneration finally finishing, its making me so much more sensibler. Hold on that's a tautology, more wasn't required in that sentence. No actually sensibler isn't a word, what am I thinking."

"We cannot start until the Plasmavore arrives," Kabrok said.

"Yes we can," Shadon said bitterly. "We all know the plan, we do not need him to tell the Time Lord."

"It would be appropriate to wait," the Anuran said. "Seeing as he is already on his way."

Shadon pulled a face but said no more. After a few seconds a figure in bright green overalls entered, flanked by two Judoon. It took a while for the Doctor to recognise the figure.

"Alkrad!" The Doctor exclaimed. "What's with the new look?"

The Plasmavore's skin had gone brown and wrinkly, just like a Judoon's. "They've only been giving me Judoon blood," he explained, "and they don't like what I look like in my true form." He noticed Broxa but couldn't find one particular person. "Where's Lisa?"

The Doctor stiffened and Broxa looked down, not willing to meet anyone's gaze. The Doctor could feel Alkrad's gaze on him, but couldn't bring himself to return it, his eyes remained fixed on a point on the opposite wall. His throat dried up and tightened painfully.

"Where is she Doctor?" Alkrad asked, more urgently this time.

The Doctor unclenched his jaw. "She... she," he croaked, unable to bring himself to say the truth. He had lived through it once already, he couldn't bear the idea of reliving it. "She's not with us anymore," he managed.

The Plasmavore turned his black beady eyes onto the Time Lord and pulled an expression that he couldn't read, or he simply didn't want to.

"That's a shame," Alkrad said solemnly. "I had been hoping to see her again."

"Yes," Dorothy said loudly, bringing them back to the here and now. "Perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand: the upcoming attack."

The Doctor nodded hastily and turned back to the council and sat down on an empty chair and rested his feet on the table as if he owned the place. "Enlighten me," he said.

"Sundew is impregnable," the Ogron, who the Doctor now learnt was called Oowook, explained. "There are several asteroids located in its vicinity that have been specifically modified to attack when any unfriendly ships approach."

"In what way?" The Doctor queried.

"In built magnets and explosives," the Ogron leader explained. "Anyone that drifts too close either gets blown up or is smashed to smithereens; there is no way through."

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "How do Sundew get their ships through then?"

"Most assassins utilise teleporters to avoid this," Alkrad explained. "The ones that do use ships have them fitted with transmitters that emit a signal that the receiver in the asteroid picks up to know not to activate. The signal is on a rotating frequency so it is impossible for anyone to replicate it."

"And you want me to add my professional opinion?" The Doctor questioned. "Just teleport straight in, surprised they haven't thought of that." They all stared at him blankly, even the Anuran and the Rackateen. "Oh, they have thought of that haven't they."

Colsok chose to pick up the explanation at this point. "Sundew has sensors that detect any teleports and jammers that restrict the areas that you can teleport into. When anyone teleports into the base the sensors pick it up and activate the defensive cannons that train on the new arrival. There is a quick scan and if the individual, if it is a person who is cleared to enter: any assassin, Superior or cleared informant, then the defences stand down, if it is not then they open fire killing the person."

"So is Alkrad going to go in and then deactivate this defence for the rest of you?" the Doctor suggested.

"It is unlikely that I will still be on the approved visitors list," Alkrad pointed out.

"No, but there is a way to get through this defence," Kabrok supplied.

"The teleport signature of your TARDIS would be difficult for them to detect," the Groske said with a grin. "And even if it does, all the beings would be inside. The sensors would find nothing to attack and would retract."

"They'll have thought of that too no doubt," the Doctor said sceptically. "Has he not warned you about that?"

"I did actually," Alkrad said defensively. "There used to be a whole wing dedicated to analysing the time vortex."

"Used to?"

"Well when they sent somene to check it was no longer there," Alkrad shrugged.

"So anyway," Kabrok said. "Are you going to help us?"

The Doctor thought for a moment and then began to grin. The members of the Shadow Proclamation smiled themselves out of relief.

"No," the Doctor said, his expression suddenly becoming nuetral. They all stared at him questionably as if they had mis-heard him, but there had been no mistake.

"But you were going there anyway," Alkrad said in confusion.

"Under my own steam on a recognisance mission," the Doctor clarified, "not as the sole hope of an invasion fleet. I have been to war before and I can assure you I am not going to do it again."

All people in the room were left speechless as the Doctor stood up and strode off towards the exit. "I wish you all the luck in your plan b." He said as he went.

"There isn't a plan b," Kabrok pleaded. "You were our only hope."

Shadon gave off a little laugh. It wasn't a jolly one, it was a bitter laugh of a man who has been told by a fortune teller he will die in an accident involving a boat and has since avoided taking any trips on boats, yet a great sailing ship is now flying straight towards him, certain to crush him. "So this is the great Doctor, the Oncoming Storm," he scorned.

"Don't forget Kinslayer, the Destroyer of Worlds, Get That Bastard and the Amazing Spiderman," the Doctor said over his shoulder.

"Balking at the thought of battle!" Shadon shouted.

Surprisingly the Doctor did not falter. "Yep, that's right," he commented. "Come on Broxa, maybe if I aim to arrive for dessert at the restaurant at the end of the universe I might actually get there for the start."

"I think we should help them," she faltered.

"No, I've been to war hundreds of times and it has never done me any good," the Doctor wouldn't give any ground. he only came to a stop when Dorothy stood in his way.

"Is this it? Just like that you're going to leave us?" she questioned.

"Yep," he nodded cheerfully and moved to walk past her but she moved in his way again.

"Aren't you even a little curious as to who wants you dead?" she pleaded.

"I'm beginning to get the feeling that there are some things better left as a mystery," he said gravely. He continued for a few seconds but then stopped and turned back at them. There was silence for a moment as if he were having some internal battle, and then he smiled at them. For a moment they could hope once again that he was going to go back on his word and decide to help them after all.

"Happy Easter," he said and then turned to leave, for good this time; dashing their hopes.

She made no move to stop as he walked past him this time. The rest of the room were left in silence, unsure what to do next. Broxa quickly ran after him, a Judoon made to stop her but was quickly called off by Kabrok. Very slowly the room began to empty, there was no point continuing the meeting now, their entire battle plan was in disarray. Kabrok made a point of taking Alkrad back at his cell personally, along with Dorothy, and no one had the nerve to point out he was going the wrong way. Eventually only the Rackateen was left, staring idly at his doughnuts.

He looked up and realised that he was all on his own. That probably meant that the attack was about to get under way. He knew that they could rely on the Doctor to help them. he looked back down and began to nibble on yet another doughnut.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: apologies for the late update, the hectic easter weekend has prevented me from updating until now. There was a reason I chose to leave this note until the end, but as is often the case now that I have come to it I have completely forgotten the reason : Happy Easter**


	33. Shadew 6: True Shadows

Shadew 6: True Shadows

The Doctor ordered the Judoon to unload the TARDIS from Dorothy's shuttle. They did it without question, Judoon are very good at following orders, and it was very quickly placed down in the hanger.

"I still think we should stay and help them," Broxa repeated.

"I don't do wars," the Doctor insisted. "They are not fun, they are full of misery and destruction and the cause is rarely a just one."

"But you want to go to Sundew anyway," she persisted. "Wouldn't it be better to go in with them to back you up?"

"I would want to go in quietly," the Doctor said. "Why would I want a bunch of brainless oafs drawing attention to us and destroying anything useful in our path. No offence lads." He directed this last comment at the surrounding Judoon, but they paid him no heed. "You can go now," he said to them and after a moment's hesitation they left.

The Doctor went over to the TARDIS and opened the door with a click of his fingers, he beckoned for Broxa to follow him inside. "Don't completely close the door, leave it slightly open," he said. "Speaking of which, when is a door not a door?"

"What?" Broxa asked, completely baffled.

"When it's a jar!" The Doctor exclaimed with a huge grin. Broxa gave him a stare that told him that she didn't understand at all. "Never mind, now all we need to do is wait for the true Shadows to turn up."

"The what?"

"With a council like that it is clear that while some will be working towards the greater good of the Shadow Proclamation, others will just be working for their own benefits; and I am not wasting my time on those that will not listen," the Doctor explained. "The ones that are only interested in themselves will think I am leaving and will not care in the slightest, they may not have wanted me here at all, whereas the others will come and seek me out in hopes of catching me before we go."

"You do intend to help them," Broxa realised. "It was all a ruse."

"There's no fooling you is there," he grinned. "Although I did fool you didn't I. No, I wouldn't want to pass up this opportunity. I need to get into Sundew and I have been putting it off for long enough."

"What now then?" she asked

"Now?" The Doctor mused. "Now we wait."

They didn't have to wait long before a head poked round the half open door. "You could have just dematerialised from inside my shuttle you know."

"How do you know," the Doctor countered with a grin. "You know nothing about TARDIS engineering remember."

Dorothy smirked back and invited herself into the interior. "I don't think that TARDIS engineering has anything to do with where it can appear and disappear," she said dubiously. "No I think you were deliberately delaying your exit in hopes that one of us would arrive to try and stop you."

"I was counting on it actually," the Doctor clarified.

"Yeah, we're waiting for the true Shadows," Broxa added.

Dorothy gave her a puzzled look. "The who?"

"Those of you that are genuinely interested in justice rather than simply furthering your own careers," the Doctor explained. "I took it for granted that you would be one of them, and I very much doubt that we will be graced with the presence of the Shadow Architect's brother."

She nodded in agreement. "Shadon is a complete fool, you wouldn't want his aid anyway."

There was a cough at the door that drew everyone's attention. "Didn't want to let you go without saying goodbye," the Judoon skinned Plasmavore said.

"Come in," the Doctor said, "the more the merrier. One question though."

Alkrad paused a step inside the door and indicated for him to ask. "If you are still a prisoner here," the Doctor questioned, "how come you are able to come here freely without any trouble?"

Alkrad simply stepped to the side to allow Kabrok to enter as well. "We agreed that we would try one last time to convince you to help before scrapping the entire plan," the Judoon explained.

"Anyone else with you?" The Doctor asked.

The Judoon and the Plasmavore both stepped aside to allow several individuals to enter. A group of Judoon stomped in, took a quick look around and promptly fainted; giving the Groske standing amongst them a heart attack.

"What's up with them?" Broxa asked.

"They've never seen the inside of the TARDIS before," the Doctor explained. "They only have small minds, I'm guessing the shock was too much for them." He noticed the Groske standing amongst the unconscious bodies and smiled down at him. "Hello again, Colsok wasn't it?"

"You had better not leave," Colsok said gruffly. "This is all riding on you, you realise."

"I understand that perfectly," the Doctor agreed. He turned his attention back to the door where a couple of Albinos quickly exited before coming back in with shell-shocked expressions on their faces. The Judoon slowly began to recover, a few got back to their feet but most just fainted once more. "I would move from there if I were you," the Doctor said to Colsok, who quickly obliged.

Once everyone had entered, and recovered from varying degrees of shock over the interior, the Doctor could clearly see several Albinos, Judoon, Alkrad, Colsok and a few short, green turtle like aliens that he recognised as Chelonians. "I notice you haven't brought along your Ogron guards Colonel," he said.

"All the people here are here voluntarily," Kabrok explained. "The guards made no indication of any interest in your inclusion in the plan, and I don't think you would have wanted them here anyway."

"You don't trust them?"

"Of course not! They're Ogrons, they were only working for me so that Oowook could keep an eye on me," Kabrok said.

"You allow yourself to be guarded by another man's men?" The Doctor questioned.

"Oh I have bribed them so as to make sure they remain on my side," the Judoon reassured him. "But I still wouldn't trust them."

The Doctor looked him up and down admirably. "I'm impressed, it's not often that I come across a Judoon that can think."

Kabrok nodded, clearly pleased but not willing to openly show it, and turned towards the door. "I had hoped that Oowook would be here," he mentioned.

"Well he never really was your ally was he," Dorothy pointed out. "He was just playing his own game of thrones."

"That's a book!" The Doctor pointed out accusingly.

"Yes," Dorothy agreed. "And I am allowed to quote them as much as you are allowed to sing."

"Is that everyone?" The Doctor asked, changing the subject quickly.

"Everyone that we know of," Alkrad answered. "Others may come but they won't be anything to do with us."

"Ok, we'll wait a few minutes before we begin to discuss how I can help you."

* * *

><p>Caprinite was the only one around when the communicator buzzed into life again. He stomped over to it, trailing sand in his wake, and pressed the button to receive the call. "Master Quanchi, I have an update," the voice said.<p>

"Master Quanchi is not here right now," Caprinite rumbled. Although, now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure exactly where Master Quanchi actually was at the moment; he normally spent all his time skulking in his chamber but wasn't there now.

"I will only talk to Master Quanchi," the voice insisted.

"I can pass the message on," Caprinite insisted. "We are all brothers now."

"Eh?"

"I gather that Master Quanchi has offered you a place in our guild," Caprinite clarified.

"As a Superior," the voice added. "So I will only talk with the Master or another Superior."

Caprinite ground his stone teeth in rage. How dare he! "I am Superior Caprinite!" he bellowed. "I am the Master's second in command!"

The voice at the other end was silent for a few seconds. "I apologise," it said eventually. "I did not know."

"You have a message," Caprinite growled.

"Of course," the voice said humbly. "The situation has changed. The Doctor has refused to help us, and his dropping out has ruined the entire plan, we cannot attack without him."

"Then you must persuade him to help you." Even Caprinite was susceptible to jumping out of his skin whenever Master Quanchi suddenly appeared beside him. It was one of the many habits that made the Master so feared; along with his vicious sadism.

"Master Quanchi? That will not be easy, he has already made his way into his TARDIS."

"Has the TARDIS left yet?" Quanchi asked patiently.

"Well... no."

"Then there is still a chance," Quanchi said. "You must find out whether he truly intends to abandon you, and if so persuade him not to."

"Yes Master," the voice said. "I will get on it right away."

The communicator went dead. Master Quanchi turned his head towards his stone number two. "This changes nothing," he said.

"No," Caprinite agreed. "The Informant said that he would come here, and he has never been wrong."

"It is such a shame that he had to die," Quanchi said in a voice that didn't betray very much regret at all. "He was so useful."

"He would have sold us out eventually," Caprinite said. "Just like he sold out Alkrad."

"He already has," Quanchi said matter-of-factly, "several times. But he always comes back to us, he will always sell information to those willing to pay for it; he is a proper businessman."

"Not anymore," Caprinite pointed out. "He betrayed once too many."

"Not everyone is so understanding," Quanchi said simply, and a second later he was gone again leaving no trace that he had ever been there.

* * *

><p>He ended up waiting for half an hour. No one turned up in that time, so even Broxa was starting to get sick of the singing by this time. "No one else is coming," Kabrok growled. "Can we get on with it now!"<p>

"But I haven't even finished act one," the Doctor protested. Rather than simply singing songs at random he had actually been singing an entire opera.

"Well we didn't actually come here to listen to your rendition Guys and Dolls," Alkrad countered.

"I'm not doing Guys and Dolls," he replied as if it were an insult. "I'm doing-"

"I don't care what you are doing," Alkrad interrupted. "Be it the Les Misérables, Blood Brothers or We Will Rock You. We came here because we were hoping to persuade you to help our cause."

"Oh, I will help your cause," the Doctor reassured him, "I was always going to. And those are musicals, not operas. I wanted to give others time to get here, but seeing as you are all impatient-" he suddenly gave a short gasp and leant against the console as his legs gave out from under him. he slowly exhaled bio-energy and panted for a few minutes before dragging himself back onto his feet. "Still got Previous' gall bladder, not long now."

"What's the Doctor's part in your plan?" Broxa asked on his behalf.

"The idea is for you to land somewhere inside the base while several other attempted invasions are taking place," Alkrad explained. "While their automated defences are distracted with them you should slip in completely unnoticed."

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "You have certainly put a lot of thought into the specific details, you seem to be relying a bit too heavily on me though."

"I was all for using a confiscated vortex manipulator," Alkrad agreed. "But they vetoed that one straight away. Your TARDIS is the only time travel device that isn't outlawed apparently."

"To honest for your own good," the Doctor commented, directly facing Kabrok as he spoke this time. "Considering how easy it is to bribe you lot, you are very strict about rules. You wouldn't even run after a fugitive if there was a sign saying no 'running in the corridor', in fact you've probably already lost several fugitives who have run down those corridors." He took a step towards the one-eyed Judoon. "It can be a double edged sword, following rules so strictly. You've gotta chillax, loosen your tightened limbs. Sing, dance, liberate your souls."

He jumped backwards, spun around, struck a pose and started to sing.

"I want to break free  
>I want to break free<br>I want to break free from your lies  
>You're so self satisfied I don't need you<br>I've got to break free  
>God knows, God knows I want to break free."<p>

Dorothy stared at him incredulously. "But we didn't say anything that time."

Broxa smirked slightly. "He doesn't need us to inspire him," she replied. "He can do it quite well on his own." They all watched with varying degrees of confusion and raised eyebrows as he sang and danced to the second verse of the song. "Shall I stop him?" Broxa asked.

Dorothy furrowed her eyebrows even further. "Can you do that?"

"Oh yes," she nodded, grinning mischievously. She took a few steps towards him and reached towards his crotch like she had done when he wouldn't stop laughing in Alnwick. Before she could reach her target the Doctor caught her hand and quickly pulled her into a ballroom hold; almost as if it had been rehearsed.

"It's strange but it's true  
>I can't get over the way you love me like you do<br>But I have to be sure  
>When I walk out that door<br>Oh how I want to be free baby  
>Oh how I want to be free<br>Oh how I want to break free."

As he sang he tangoed up and down the room with his companion, spinning her every now and then and lifting her up occasionally. The look on her face was quite comical as she was spun round against her will and lifted up into the air. He finished with a flourish, Broxa leant backwards with him supporting her weight.

"What's all this?" A voice by the door exclaimed. "Dance night?"

"That's not what they call it," the Doctor responded. He pulled Broxa back to her feet and turned his attention to the new arrival; a frog headed Anuran. "You were at the meeting earlier."

"I was," the Anuran agreed. "Xanus Dayot at your service."

"What brings you here then Xanus?" The Doctor asked.

"I was expecting to find that they were trying to persuade you to stay," Xanus said. "I wasn't expecting this."

"You are welcome to join in if you want," the Doctor enthused. He turned back to those that had already been inside. "Will you accompany me for a foxtrot Kabrok?"

"I think you have delayed the discussion for long enough," Dorothy interrupted.

"Alright spoilsport," the Doctor whinged, "when is the attack to take place?"

Xanus regarded him with a look of surprise. "You mean you are here to help us!"

"I should have got a badge," the Doctor muttered to himself. Aloud he said: "twelve out of ten! I am willing to transport this rag-taggle band, no offence lads, to the Sundew base."

"Just the people in here?" Xanus questioned.

"These are the only people that can be trusted," the Doctor explained. "Although you weren't here earlier so how do I know that you are to be trusted?"

"On what basis is anyone here not to be or not to be trusted?" Xanus questioned. "We are supposed to be your allies after all."

"That council of yours, the power vacuum after the death of the Shadow Architect," the Doctor listed, "with everyone grasping for power in the wake of this how am I to know who is truly working for the benefit of the organisation as opposed to those who are just working for themselves. All of you who have arrived have shown a huge amount of faith in me, and therefore a loyalty to the company rather than themselves."

"They are the true shadows," Broxa supplied helpfully.

"And I'm not?" Xanus questioned. "I'm here aren't I? Would have been here sooner, only I had to sort out a fly shipment and Shadon needed pacifying as well."

The Doctor looked to Kabrok for advice. The Judoon just stared back blankly, failing to understand the meaning of the look; he realised now how easy the Doctor was to deal with when he wouldn't shut up, at least you knew what he was thinking. Eventually the Doctor gave up on his subtle questioning and decided to just ask.

"You work with Xanus all the time," he said. "What is your opinion of him?"

The Judoon shrugged. "He never says much he just sits there eating flies."

"I do listen to what you are saying," Xanus retorted, "it's easier to feign disinterest than try to deal with idiots like Shadon."

"You do occasionally have useful interjections," Colsok pointed out.

"So you're the brains of the operation," the Doctor observed. "Pretending to be clueless or uncaring, whilst really controlling everything behind the scenes. I suppose that is the real reason you didn't arrive here with everyone else."

"It pays to keep up appearances," Xanus said casually.

"I assume you don't mean that literally," the Doctor commented in response to Kabrok's horrified reaction.

"Only an expression," the Anuran confirmed.

"Well now that I have confirmed my true allies we can start this plan of yours," the Doctor clapped his hands together with glee. "I assume you are not a military man Xanus." The Anuran shook his head in confirmation. "Good, you will stay here then and make sure that the distractions are launched on schedule. The rest of you shall accompany me in the TARDIS."

"Hold on!" Colsok exclaimed. "You do not yet know when the attack is happening. It's probably been stood down actually."

"Well Xanus can start it up again if necessary," the Doctor said, not understanding the concern.

"Yes but how will I co-ordinate our attack with yours?" Xanus asked.

"Don't try to," the Doctor said.

"Oh I know this one!" Broxa exclaimed happily. "Just act as if the Doctor has nothing to do with you and by his time instincts, or whatever you call them, he will match up with you."

"And luck," the Doctor added. "I think I will be relying quite heavily on luck. And with the TARDIS being as unreliable as it is maybe not tying her... Tie your Mother Down, tie your mother down, alright I'm sorry. Maybe not tying her down to a specific time target may get her to arrive exactly where and when I want to for once."

"And how am I going to do that for you?" Xanus asked. "Silent operator remember."

"Well I think it is probably time you came out of the closet," the Doctor said. Dorothy made a noise related to shock and surprise. "Not in that way Dorothy."

"What?" Broxa said in confusion. "I don't understand," she added when no one said anything.

"An Earth expression isn't it?" Alkrad said. "Can't quite remember what it refers to."

"Let's leave it at that shall we," the Doctor said abruptly. "You all know what I meant."

"You want me to take control," Xanus summarised. "Will they accept it."

"The people who are important are right here," the Doctor gestured to the people assembled in the TARDIS console room. "Ask them."

"You have my support," Colsok said.

"The council has been disastrous," Kabrok said. "Maybe it would be better if we had a Shadow Architect again."

"The council was your idea," Xanus reminded him.

"And I have regretted ever since," Kabrok said matter-of-factly. "Do you have any idea what it has been like for me playing the political game, trying to create allies and dealing with all that paperwork! You can have the Proclamation, I just want to be a Judoon again."

"Doesn't get much more conclusive than that," the Doctor said with a smile.

"Very well," Xanus nodded in agreement. "I shall dissolve the council and order the attack immediately."

"Well to be honest I don't think you need to dissolve the council at this stage," the Doctor responded. "That will probably just waste time."

"Didn't realise we were constricted by time," Xanus countered. "I thought you were going to match up to me."

"I didn't say that you couldn't," the Doctor said defensively. "I was merely informing you that you don't have to do that yet."

"Well I won't delay you any longer. I shall see you on the other side," the Anuran turned and exited through the TARDIS doors, closing them behind him.

"Right," the Doctor clapped his hands together and turned to the console. "Sundew here we come." He started to press buttons, pull levers and twist knobs; seemingly at random. "You're rather conspicuous if you ask me Alkrad," he said as he worked.

The Plasmavore looked down at his bright green boiler suit. "Well I am supposed to be a prisoner here," he replied.

The Doctor paused to shake his head vehemently. "Not in here you're not," he said. "Broxa show him to the wardrobe room would you, I'm not having any of my guests feeling uncomfortable in my home."

"you have a wardrobe room?" Dorothy suddenly perked up. "Right I'm coming too."

"No you are not," Broxa asserted, instantly realising why she wanted to come along.

"Why ever not?" Dorothy asked with a smirk. "I'm a guest here as well."

"You'll try to change my clothes," Broxa protested. "I like what I'm wearing."

"Oh let her," the Doctor butted in before the argument could escalate. "If you don't like what she does you can just change back afterwards."

"But-"

"I thought you were scared of nothing," he challenged.

Broxa snarled and drew herself up to her full height, which despite her short stature was very threatening. "Challenge accepted," she said and marched off towards the entrance of the corridor, followed by Dorothy, Alkrad and a few Albinos who were also interested in changing their clothes.

The Doctor allowed himself to smile at her retreating figure before resuming the take off sequence. He sprinted around the console, pausing occasionally to press buttons, until he came to a halt and slammed down a final lever. The room rocked slightly, the time rotor began to oscillate and the characteristic wheezing sound could be heard.

"The wind is very steadily whipping my hair  
>I feel a little stir in my underwear.<br>I see you're alone  
>Far away from your home,<br>I might head that way next.

Don't be afraid of my chaotic vibes  
>You don't survive this long being 'fraid like a child.<br>I'm a master of the wave  
>Even on a bad day,<br>Why don't you just take my hand...

(and)

We're gonna sail the ocean seas  
>I'll get down on my knees<br>I will secure my bloodline, my dear.  
>We're gonna sail the ocean seas<br>We'll do whatever we please,  
>We'll see things that you will not believe."<p>

The Doctor danced up and down, swaying perfectly so as never to get knocked off balance by the bucking of the TARDIS. He beckoned for the passengers that were still in the console room to join in but they stubbornly refused so he ended up singing the chorus once more as a solo.

"We're gonna sail the ocean seas  
>I'll get down on my knees<br>I will secure my bloodline, my dear.  
>We're gonna sail the ocean seas<br>We'll do whatever we please,  
>We'll see things that you will not believe."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: finally! This chapter has given me so much grief. We'll have a more interesting one next time, hopefully. The lyrics at the end are completely made up once again, most likely the Sinking Ships once more due to the sailing references; a lot more cheerful this time I think.<strong>


	34. Shadew 7

Shadew 7

Caprinite strode down the corridor, carefully supervising all the assassins at work. The Shadow Proclamation had just launched a brutal attack, teleporting in numerous areas at the same time in an attempt to overwhelm the defensive turrets; and it had almost worked as well. The assassins were now hard at work, clearing away the dead bodies of Judoon, Ogrons, Albinos and assassins.

It was lucky Quanchi's informant had warned them of this plan, otherwise they may not have managed to hold out at all. Thanks to his vital information they had known to separate the space defences and the teleport defences; as they normally worked on one single system.

Satisfied with the cleanup operation he changed direction and headed straight for the Quartermaster's stores. The door was barricaded shut but he easily managed to force it open with his superior strength. The instant he burst into the room he was attacked.

Someone small, in comparison to him, dived at him and rammed a steel blade into his arm. Caprinite snarled in pain as his sandstone skin crumbled under the assault and retaliated swiftly by slamming the affected arm into the assailants chest. The force of the blow sent the assailant flying, landing painfully on his back. Caprinite roared and leaped forwards, preparing to bring his stone foot down to crush his chest.

"Caprinite wait!" The assailant shouted. "I thought you were one of them, I'm sorry."

Caprinite paused and looked at the assailant more carefully. Recognition suddenly dawned on him. "You're the Quartermaster's new assistant!"

"That's me," the assistant panted a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Olljo at your service. I am assuming we got them then."

"Only just," Caprinite rumbled. He moaned in pain and massaged his wound tenderly.

Olljo watched this behaviour with fascination. "So you do feel pain," he said dreamily "Of course I do!" Caprinite growled threateningly. "Perhaps you would like to have a chunk of your flesh gouged out and see how you like it."

Olljo held up his maimed hand and indicated his missing finger. "I am guessing it won't be much different to that," he stated.

Caprinite grunted and turned to survey the chaos and destruction that had befallen the room. "Where is the Quartermaster?" he asked.

"Lost his head," Olljo said indicating a pile of bodies, "in both senses."

"So in a room full of Ogrons," Caprinite said, "_you_ were the only survivor?"

Olljo shrugged. "You learn to look after yourself when everyone around you is trying to eat you," he said simply. "Only the tough get to survive."

"Still, you on your own managed to take down an entire platoon of Ogrons _on your own_," Caprinite persisted.

"Well I wasn't completely on my own," Olljo shrugged. "The Quartermaster was with me until that big one got hold of him, along with the other assistants though they were mostly cowards so not much help at all. And I did have access to the stores."

Caprinite now looked down with interest at the big Ogron that had so brutally killed the Quartermaster. "I know him," he rumbled. "He's their leader."

"Yeah that was my assumption as well," Olljo agreed. "They were certainly much less organised once he was out of the picture."

"No I mean the overall leader," Caprinite growled. "The big boss, the thinker. I have met him in battle before and I was so looking forward to tearing his head off like he tore Bleatryte's head off."

"Well obviously if I had known there was some long running feud between the two of you I would have left him for you to deal with," Olljo said sarcastically. "Now, do you want to get someone in here to deal with this or are you planning to leave them to rot here?"

The goat headed golem rounded on comparatively small human. "You presume to talk to me like that!" he roared, spraying sand across Olljo's face.

Olljo casually wiped the sand away from his face before replying. "Is there a traditional method of succession when the Quartermaster dies or retires?" he asked.

Caprinite faltered. "I don't know," he said. "Normally he just chooses an assistant to take over when he retires, as far as I know."

"I had better get started then," he smiled clapping his hands together.

Caprinite grunted and stomped towards the door. "I'll send someone to clear up this mess then," he growled. Just before he exited he paused to add: "Quartermaster."

"Thank you Superior," Olljo returned the gesture of respect.

* * *

><p>"It's a party, don't you know it don't get much better, we gonna make it such an awesome party, and you should know it don't get much sweeter, so here we go!" the Doctor sang loudly as the console room began to shake again. "Looks like we're coming up on Alderaan, fasten your seatbelts this could get bumpy."<p>

He ran around the console pressing buttons frantically and spinning a large wheel that he had recently attached. He smiled as he felt the TARDIS steady. "See, I said it would make things easier to contro-" he was cut off when the TARDIS rocked even more violently and began spinning out of control.

He gripped the wheel and span it frantically. "Someone activate the Reverse Higgs Transposer!" He shouted. An Albino stood over the console and stared blankly at the many strange controls. "Quickly!"

"Which one is it?" She shouted frantically.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "The switch next to Rhondium Reverser," he said. She looked at him like a rabbit in a set of headlights. He grinned cheekily. "It's the little switch next to that big red knob and below the three green buttons on that panel over there. But I don't actually need it," he demonstrated by gently tilting the wheel in the opposite direction and flicked a nearby switch. The rocking immediately stopped and the TARDIS became steady. The Albino stepped away from the console, looking slightly embarrassed, as the Doctor laughed at his own practical joke.

"What's going?" Broxa shouted, running into the console room followed by Dorothy, Alkrad and a couple of Albinos. "The whole TARDIS flipped."

"Just the Doctor playing a little joke," Colsok said through gritted teeth.

"Testing out my new driving mechanism," the Doctor justified. "And it did get you all up here in time for landing."

"Almost there then?" Alkrad questioned.

"That's right," the Doctor nodded. He paused and did a double take. Alkrad was wearing dark jeans and bright white trainers, that wasn't what caught his eye. The thing that caught his attention was the leather jacket that he wore, his leather jacket, the one his ninth incarnation had worn; the soldier's jacket.

"What?" The Plasmavore asked, stretching his arms wide in a strangely human gesture.

"That was my jacket," the Doctor explained. "I wore it in a previous life. It's just strange to see someone else wearing it." He turned back to the console but stopped himself upon noticing Broxa.

Gone was 11th century peasant dress, in its place were a pair of denim shorts and a blue plaid shirt (thankfully buttoned up to cover her almost certainly bare breasts) with the sleeves rolled up neatly. On her feet, which had mostly been bare in her time as a companion, were a pair of leather boots not dissimilar to the ones she had worn on Mondas and then promptly lost on Alnwick. The most striking thing, however, was her hair. Normally it was a tangled mess, now it was brushed so that it fell neatly onto her shoulders. He was half surprised that Dorothy hadn't managed to get her to wear makeup as well.

"I thought you weren't going to let her change your clothes?" He asked teasingly.

"Well I changed my mind," she retorted.

He nodded and turned back to the console. "We will want to be as silent as possible, even with the others distracting them," he said, more to himself than anyone in particular. "I shall land without the Retarding Systems being engaged." He pressed several buttons and pulled a couple of levers, his finger hesitated over a final button but he eventually pressed it with an air of finality.

The TARDIS began to jiggle about like an aircraft experiencing turbulence. He jogged to the other side of the console and twisted a knob similar to one normally found on a washing machine followed by the flicking of several switches. The TARDIS began to rock violently. The Doctor dived across the top of the console to grab hold of the wheel whilst carefully manipulating several controls with his feet.

"Hold on tight to your dreams," he sang as he sprawled across the console. He repeated the line as if to emphasise a point.

Broxa realised what he meant first. "Grab hold of something! This will not be comfortable!"

The Doctor continued to sing and fight with the controls in an attempt to bring the ship under control as the remaining passengers ran about in chaos. The Doctor smiled to himself as he was suddenly reminded of the time he had met Emperor Nero. After setting Rome on fire, the mad Emperor had sat on his balcony and played his harp; a scene almost identical to this one. He snapped back to reality as he felt the TARDIS shoot out of the Time Vortex.

* * *

><p>In a corridor of the Sundew base the two porters, who had somehow survived the recent attack, were just clearing away the last of the bodies. They disappeared around the corner discussing the recent attack by the Shadow Proclamation and didn't come back. This turned out to be a good thing as it was at this moment that the TARDIS materialised.<p>

This was not the normal, steady materialisation that was accompanied by the grating noise; this was wild and out of control. The TARDIS appeared in mid-air, flying towards a wall which it hit with a loud crash. It bounced onto the floor and slid until it crashed into another wall causing it to rock on its base until it came to a standstill. The TARDIS had landed, and miraculously no one had been alerted to its presence.

* * *

><p>"Perhaps I should leave the Retarding Systems on in future," the Doctor muttered. He leapt to his feet, brushed all the imaginary dust off his front and straightened his hat. "We have reached our destination. Please remember to take all your belongings with you, any unattended items will be removed and possibly destroyed. Please mind the gap between the train and the platform."<p>

He strode purposefully towards the door as everyone else slowly recovered from the bumpy landing and cautiously opened the door and peered out. Satisfied that the coast was clear he walked out leaving the door wide open. He noted the damage the TARDIS had caused when it had crashed into the corridor and turned back to make sure that it hadn't received any damage itself in the landing.

Broxa was the first to exit and quickly joined him in his examination. "You don't normally land her that badly," she observed.

"Well I normally leave the Retarding Systems on," he replied. "We came in too quickly. But on the positive side we seem to have managed to avoid detection."

"I'm sure I heard something," a voice round the corner instantly disproved this theory.

"Are you sure it's not just your translator playing up again?" another voice questioned.

"I've only just replaced it, it wouldn't break again that quickly."

The Doctor and Broxa turned to the sound of the voices and were soon met by two men; one taller than the other. "Hello," he said cheerfully in reaction to their surprised looks.

"Hello," the shorter man said uncertainly.

"Told you I heard something," lofty said triumphantly.

"Yes but who are they?"

"Well there is a very easy way for you to find that out," the Doctor piped in.

"What's that?" the porters asked in unison.

The Doctor looked at Broxa in amusement. "Do you want to tell them?"

"What?" she questioned. "Who we are or how they can find out?"

"Just how they can find out," he said patiently. "I'm surprised they haven't worked it out yet."

"Well you would need to give me another clue," she said pleadingly. "I'm not very good at these riddles of yours."

The Doctor sighed. "You are over thinking it again. How would you find out who someone is if they were standing in front of you?"

"Oh," she exclaimed in realisation.

"Well," the shorter porter said in anticipation.

She exchanged a questioning look with the Doctor before answering. "You ask them you fools."

The porters looked at each for a second, sharing a moment of feeling foolish, before attempting to clap the other over the back of the head; whilst blocking the others blow with the other hand. "Idiot," shorty said.

"You didn't think of it either," lofty reminded him.

"Are you forgetting something?" the Doctor asked, drawing their attention back to him and his companion.

The porters nodded humbly. "Who are you?" lofty asked.

"Now the question you should be asking yourself is," the Doctor replied cryptically, "who else would I be? who would be here in this corridor for no apparent reason?"

"I'm Broxa," Broxa added, less cryptically.

Shorty looked the Doctor up and down. "You're not that new Superior are you?"

"Twelve out of ten," the Doctor exclaimed.

"Really?" lofty questioned sceptically. "I thought that the new Superior was a former member of the Shadow Proclamation."

"Who's to say I'm not," the Doctor countered. He shared an almost imperceptible glance with Broxa which she had learnt meant he wanted her to remain silent while he gently probed for more information.

"I take it that everything is up to standard Superior," shorty said. He was well practiced in the art of speaking to those who could, and often would, kill you if you so much as breathed out of time.

"Yes, it's very tidy," the Doctor complimented. "You obviously take great pride in your job. I suppose you must be able to hear a lot that goes on around here, after all who would pay attention to pair of porters after all."

"The Informant did," lofty muttered.

"And Alkrad actually," shorty added.

"There's that name again," the Doctor muttered. "I hear it everywhere, yet I knew nothing of him a few weeks ago."

"Who Alkrad?" shorty asked. "Well he did give up information on our defences to you, I'm not surprised you are hearing about him all the time."

"No not him," the Doctor dismissed. "The Informant."

The porters shrugged. "Are you humans?" Broxa couldn't resist holding back her curiosity any longer.

"Yes," the taller one answered. "Why?"

"I was just under the impression that humans were isolated on Earth," she shrugged.

"You're both here," he pointed out.

"Well we aren't actually human," she replied. "What's your excuse?"

"I'm not here for your life stories," the Doctor butted in. "I gather you have been having problems with your translator."

"Not just the translators," the taller porter clarified. "All our equipment. There have been so many budget cuts."

"Budget cuts?" the Doctor asked in surprise. "Surely the assassins are rolling in it."

"They won't want to spend it on us though," the short one said. "We're only porters."

"But that is stupid," The Doctor enthused. "Efficiency works from the ground up, if the lowest workers stop working efficiently then the whole system snarls up; surely they know that."

"We have wondered," shorty said suspiciously. "I hope you are going to sort that out."

"Oh I will do everything in my power to completely change how Sundew operates," the Doctor reassured him.

"You're certainly not lying about that," Broxa murmured, earning a shush from the Doctor.

"Alkrad?" They both turned to see that Alkrad had indeed exited the TARDIS and was returning the taller porters stare.

"Did it not work!" Alkrad exclaimed in panic.

"No it worked," Broxa assured him. "They just showed up by chance."

"We rescued him from the Shadow Proclamation," the Doctor improvised. "He was being poorly treated, he was forced to drink Judoon blood to survive."

The porters eyed Alkrad suspiciously. He certainly had been drinking large quantities of Judoon blood, there was no other explanation for his current complexion, and he looked thinner than he had done before. It was quite possible that he had indeed been a prisoner, as opposed to a defected ally, of the Shadow Proclamation. But it was also likely that they would have kept him imprisoned regardless, he had been an assassin after all, and there was the fact that he had just exited from a blue box; out of which a number of Judoon were now slowly exiting, which certainly couldn't possibly have fit in there.

"They're from the Shadow Proclamation," lofty realised.

"Of course they're from the Shadow Proclamation," shorty tutted, "they're obviously the traitor's allies."

"Do you really think all these people would have chosen to turn traitor?"

"They're Judoon, treachery and incompetence were mixed in with their biology when they were being created."

"What?"

Shorty sighed deeply. "You must have read the story of how the first Judoon was made."

"Of course not, I can't read remember."

The shorter porter turned to him in surprise. "What do you mean you can't read?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you can?" lofty interrogated.

"Yes," shorty replied.

Lofty looked aside thoughtfully. "I'll have to try that at some point," he muttered, "I assumed that that particular function was lost in the method of our births."

"Yes, that's what they wanted us to think," his friend tapped his nose conspiratorially. "But I quickly learnt that that was just one of many lies to keep us under control."

"Such as what?" lofty queried, but then he rapidly shook his head. "No never mind, what I was more concerned about was the fact that they all seemed to be coming out of a small blue box."

"A small blue box?"

"Yes, who famously owns a blue box that is bigger on the inside than the outside?"

Shorty put his hands on his hips. "So you allow them to push you down by allowing them to convince you that you cannot read, yet you have the freewill to listen in on their conversations and take note of apparently insignificant facts in order to use against them when the right time comes?"

"No, not to use against them," lofty denied strongly. "More out of professional curiosity."

"Professional curiosity?" shorty cocked his eyebrows sceptically. "You're a porter what sort of professional curiosity can you possibly have."

"A similar one that motivated you to open a book just to see what would happen, I imagine," his taller friend countered.

"Alright then," shorty said huffily. "Who owns a blue box that is bigger on the inside than the outside?"

"The Doctor," lofty replied. "But I suppose this could be another blue box that is bigger on the inside than the outside."

"No I think it is the Doctor's," shorty said with dread.

"Why?" shorty did not answer, he merely pointed. Lofty looked up and found that they were now surrounded by Judoon who were all pointing their guns at them. "Ah."

"They're almost as bad as you are," Broxa commented.

"No, I doubt that would have happened if we had got one of them on their own," he replied. "So what shall we do with them."

"Tie them up and hide them in the TARDIS or something like that," she shrugged.

"That all?" he questioned. "You don't want to cut them up and eat their livers?"

She shrugged. "Not especially, they don't look particularly appetising."

"Yes I suppose they are quite thin and scrawny, hence why they are porters as opposed to full blooded assassins."

"I suppose their tongues might be quite good," she mused. "Certainly well muscled like yours."

The two porters looked at one another in confusion. "Is this supposed to be scary?" the shorter one asked.

"Yep," the Doctor nodded cheerfully. "I was hoping that my friend here would at least play up her cannibal roots and pretend she would quite like to eat you causing you to give up all your secrets out of fear. You really can't rely on your allies sometimes."

"Well you could have told me it was all part of a plan," Broxa complained.

"I assume you are the first wave of the next attack," shorty stated.

"Next attack?" Alkrad questioned.

"Yeah we've just finished cleaning up after your first attack," lofty replied. "You almost had us. Would have almost been a relief actually, assassins are terrible employers."

The assembled members of the Shadow Proclamation looked at one another in shock. "You mean the attack has already happened," Kabrok exclaimed.

"We almost overwhelmed you, you say," Dorothy questioned.

"Completely overloaded all our sensors," lofty replied. "Your logic was faultless, unfortunately you didn't take into account the traitor revealing the plan to us."

Kabrok gave a great moan of despair. "All our planning, pointless." He turned to the Doctor in anger. "This is your fault! You got us here too late!"

"Not my fault actually," the Doctor corrected. "I warned you that the TARDIS is not working properly right now. Perhaps I should have realised that by aiming to arrive a few hours late she would suddenly work perfectly once more and promptly arrive a few hours late. But it is not all bad. I have got us here, intact and undetected."

"And we know that the defences are no longer working," Alkrad added.

"They think that they are safe, we shall catch them with their trousers down," Colsok supplied with a mischievous grin.

"Precisely," the Doctor declared with a grin.

"We should contact Xanus," Kabrok stated. "This is the perfect time to strike once again."

"Spoken like a true soldier," the Doctor muttered. "You can do that if you want, I'm going to find the Master's records. I prefer to work covertly. Broxa, Dorothy and Alkrad can come with me."

"Well I'm coming as well then," the Judoon Colonel insisted. "I'm not letting you have all the glory."

"If you must," the Doctor shrugged.

"I'll hold down the fort here," Colsok said, "and contact the Shadow Proclamation."

The Doctor froze and twisted round to stare at him. "Hold down the fort?"

"Earth expression," Colsok said proudly. "I've done my research."

"Well you got it wrong," the Doctor said scornfully. "That would be right if you were in America, but the correct expression should be _hold the fort_."

"Oh," Colsok screwed up his face in concentration. "Now that you mention it, that does make more sense."

"Of course it does, it's a perfectly reasonable military metaphor. You and your friend are holding a fort against an enemy attack and while you nip out to buy groceries, or whatever, you are asking your friend to hold the fort so that when you return you still have a fort to defend. Whereas hold down the fort suggests that it is an inflatable fort that is likely to float of if I'm not there."

"Or the fort is a restless horse that could run off unless you hold it down," Dorothy added.

"If the expression was hold down the horse then that would be a perfectly reasonable metaphor," the Doctor said.

"Can we get on now," Kabrok growled impatiently.

"Yes of course," the Doctor turned and strode down the corridor. He paused when he realised that no one was following him. "Come on then, don't keep me waiting."

Broxa, Dorothy, Alkrad and Kabrok quickly followed after him, not willing to be left behind.

* * *

><p>"Hold on a minute!"<p>

"What is it now Doctor?" Kabrok moaned.

The Doctor pointed to the window that looked out into space. "I want to show Broxa something," he said. To Broxa he said. "Look out there. what do you see?"

Broxa came forwards and looked out of the window in interest. "Those are stars right?" she said.

"Yes but what else can you tell me about them?"

She looked again more closely, screwing up her face in concentration. "They prove that we are only small insignificant beings in an infinitely large universe filled with hundreds, no thousands, of different species all living vastly complex lives that we cannot truly comprehend?"

The Doctor smiled at this summary. "Correct. But that wasn't what I meant. Concentrate on that brightest one, just there. what does that tell you?"

She stared at the indicated star blankly for a few seconds and then realisation dawned on her face. "We're on Mondas!"

"Yes! Well no, not really," the Doctor replied. "But we are where Mondas used to be."

"Why what happened to Mondas?" She questioned.

"It's been destroyed."

"Destroyed!" She exclaimed. "It may have been a miserable place but it was my home! Did you do it?"

"No, this time it was self inflicted," the Doctor said quickly. "The Cybermen sort of destroyed it themselves out of stupidity. I won't upset you with the details."

"Good," she said huffily and turned to stomp off.

"Look I'm sorry, I thought you would find it interesting. Huge universe out there, Sundew's base could be anywhere yet we end up taking you home."

"You may like these little coincidences, but did it never occur to you that others would feel differently?" She retorted.

"It wasn't Mondas as you knew it," he pleaded. "The Cybermen had completely taken it by then."

"I understand that! It's just a bit of a shock, that's all."

Satisfied that he had placated her he said: "The interesting thing is that the entire architecture of the base is very heavily based on Mondas towards the end. They either copied the plans or this is a remarkable-" he was cut off by Broxa spinning round and slapping him hard across the face. He reeled back and rubbed his palm over the affected area. Broxa didn't say anything, but the look she gave him was enough to dissuade him from attempting to say any more. He had almost forgotten how terrifying Broxa could be when riled, she almost seemed to have grown taller.

"Who goes there!" A shout down the corridor drew everyone's attention. A squad of Judoon, led by a fearsome helmetless leader, stomped down the corridor towards them.

"The Shadow Proclamation!" Alkrad exclaimed. "That was quick!"

"Almost too quick," the Doctor muttered suspiciously.

As they came within a few metres they halted and regarded the group coolly. At this distance Kabrok was able to recognise the leader. "Tybo! I thought you were in the first wave!"

"Hold that thought Kabrok," the Doctor said. "I may not be an expert, but they don't look very pleased to see us."

Kabrok's eye widened in realisation. "You're the traitor!" He exclaimed. "And after everything I offered you!"

"You think I would allow myself to take orders from an upstart calf like you?" Tybo said with contempt. "It should be me in your position, it would have been too, if it weren't for the veil, those human calves and that female!"

"Hell hath no fury like a wrongly mistreated employee," the Doctor commented.

"Isn't it like a woman scorned?" Dorothy asked.

"Only in Shakespeare," the Doctor replied. "Honestly one famous playwright misquotes a well known phrase and suddenly everyone thinks the misquote is the true phrase."

"Enough of this!" Tybo snapped. "Time to show my new colleagues where they have been going wrong. Kill them! Sentence: Execution!"


	35. Shadew 8

Shadew 8

Revenge was finally upon him. Tybo had waited months for the chance to turn the tables on his superiors that had hindered his progress. He had been plotting ever since Kabrok had ascended to power, that had been the final insult. He had been one of the best captains, promising great things, but all it had taken was one bad mission for that all to come crashing down. Now he was left in limbo, forever a captain but never getting promoted and watching as young upstarts who were merely calves when he had first been promoted overtake him; and putting up with all the snide comments. But that was all in the past, he had taken up a role as a Superior in Sundew, answering only to Master Quanchi himself. And he had one of many who had wronged him and the guild's most expensive target in his clutches.

"Kill them!" He ordered. "Sentence: execution!"

Tybo's squad each brandished their weapons, pointed them directly at the Doctor and opened fire.

"No!" Dorothy hurled him aside and took the beams in the chest. She screamed horribly and thrashed about in pain as the red lasers' energy slowly spread across her body.

"Run!" The Doctor shouted. "Don't just stand there, run!"

They didn't hesitate, there was nothing they could do to save her now. Having said this they all looked back, just in time to see Dorothy incinerating. After vaporising Dorothy the Judoon pointed their weapons at the retreating figures and fired again, this time they were not so accurate. Tybo growled in rage. "Don't just stand there, get after them!" He roared.

The Doctor heard the Judoon begin their stomping pursuit and urged his companions on. They ran up and down seemingly identical corridors for several minutes with the Judoon in hot pursuit. They occasionally heard the fizz of a red laser being fired, but none were hit. They came to a fork, one leading to sealed door. The Doctor sprinted towards it.

"You can't go down there!" Alkrad shouted in panic.

"I'm not," he shouted back. He ripped several dangling strips of leather from the arm of his jacket and forced them into the gap between the door and the frame. After failing to manage that he settled for simply leaving the strips on the floor nearby. He turned and directed them down the other fork.

"It won't work if they actually see us, but it should distract them for a while," he said as they resumed their sprinting.

After a few minutes they realised that they were no longer being followed and stopped to catch their breathes. Kabrok recovered the quickest and pulled out his laser pistol.

"To think I tried to push his career back on track, ungrateful old bollock," he snarled. "But we shall be ready for him next time. I shall bring him to justice."

"Hold your horses Kabrok," the Doctor cautioned, "that may not but such a good idea."

"But Dorothy..." Broxa started.

"I know," he cut in, "but we need to proceed with caution. Now isn't the time to start moping about one death, we all knew it would be a possibility. Dorothy did what she did so that we could continue the mission."

"Dorothy?" Alkrad questioned. "I thought her name was Joanna."

"Yes Time Agents rarely give anyone their real name," the Doctor commented. "What we need to do now is come up with a plan, bearing in mind that they now know that we're here so the advantage of surprise is no longer with us."

"Or maybe it is," Broxa commented.

They all turned to her in surprise. "What do you mean?" The Doctor questioned. She simply pointed out of the window.

There was a clear view of space and other parts of the Sundew base which jutted out of the asteroid; this wasn't what she was referring to though. The thing that they were interested in were the dark shapes, floating about uncontrollably. It took them a while but they soon realised that they were Judoon; Tybo's squad to be exact.

"What are they doing out there?" The Doctor exclaimed.

"That door you led them through was an airlock," Alkrad realised.

"Ah," the Doctor smiled sheepishly, "oops." He looked back out at them again. "They were actually that stupid?"

"Judoon remember," Alkrad pointed out. "This doesn't stop them completely though."

"No," the Doctor agreed, "they just need to find another door and they'll be back."

"That won't be a problem," Kabrok intoned.

They turned to him in surprise. "How do you know that?" The Doctor asked.

"Tybo wasn't wearing his helmet," the Judoon explained. "His squad are only grunts, it is likely they will fall back under my command when they return."

"I don't understand," Broxa said.

"That's the vacuum of space," the Doctor pointed. "There is no air, no oxygen, no pressure, no heat, nothing. It is a vacuum, very few living organisms can survive in it; and they are mostly strange creatures that die on planets like Earth. A Judoon's suit protects him from this, but Tybo wasn't wearing his helmet, it only works if the body is completely sealed off from vacuum, so was not protected."

"So what happened to him then?" She probed.

The Doctor floundered for a second until Alkrad came to his rescue. "He died very painfully," he said simply.

"What's the plan now then?" Broxa wondered.

"Get into the Master's quarters so that we can access his computer and find out who wants to kill me," the Doctor said.

"Yeah that's going to be easy," Alkrad said sarcastically. "How do you plan to get past Quanchi then? He rarely leaves his quarters unless the Superiors are gathering. How do you plan to get past him? Just ask him nicely?"

"Well it's funny you should say that," the Doctor replied. "Obviously if that doesn't work I will have to resort to plan b: trick him into falling down a pit covered with sticks and leaves."

"Really?" Alkrad said in despair. "You mean you weren't thinking of setting up a tripwire that causes a bucket of treacle and feathers to fall on him."

"Do you think that would work better? Well you did used to work for him I suppose," the Doctor said.

The Plasmavore growled in annoyance. "Either way we're exposed out here, we should find somewhere to hide out and make a plan."

"Do you have somewhere in mind?" The Doctor asked, but was certain he already knew the answer.

* * *

><p>As soon as Quanchi stepped into his inner sanctum he realised that he wasn't alone. Assassination attempts on the Master was not uncommon, it was common sense that the person who killed him would become the Master in his place and control the guild; so far none had been successful. The attempts had been getting rarer, but Quanchi was always ready for them and remained ruthlessly efficient at disposing of them regardless of how prestigious, young, promising they were; even if they had been forced into doing it by a bullying colleague.<p>

He casually walked into the centre of the room as if he was unaware. He always did this, to give the assassin the impression of a fair chance; he delighted in smashing hopes and dreams. To his surprise there was no sudden rush of someone hurling themselves at him, or the almost imperceptible sound of a lethal dart being fired at him. They were learning to be cautious. How boring.

As quick as lightning he had pointed his arm in an apparently random direction and a silver bolt shot out. An almost invisible dark shape dived aside and causing the shot to miss; maybe this would prove to be fun after all. Quanchi fired off several more bolts at a speed and trajectory that would allow any competent target to dodge easily, whilst easily dodging a blade that was thrown back at him.

The assailant bobbed and weaved about the room and eventually leaped forward to strike down on completely empty air. He didn't allow himself time to be confused by the fact that Quanchi wasn't on the receiving end of his strike and simply cart wheeled backwards to avoid the next barrage of bolts that came from a completely different part of the room. He had certainly done his homework, not many people were ready for the Master's extraordinary turn of speed (or maybe it was short range teleportation).

Quanchi allowed the fight to continue for a few minutes before ending it brutally. One second he was on the other side of the room and then the next second he was standing right next to the assailant. Before he could react he was dead. He remained standing for a few moments as if his body hadn't quite realised before finally collapsing in on himself.

"And he was doing so well," a voice in the corner commented. "Someone will get you one of these days."

The intruder, deciding that there was no point in hiding any longer, turned the lights on revealing himself. He looked human, but only with a brief glance. Closer inspection showed that his ears were slightly pointed, his dark hair writhed around as if each strand had a life of its own, he had no nails and too many fingers. He wore a pair of goggles that completely obscured his eyes with the black spherical lenses; the strange thing was that there was that these two lenses also attached to third one that covered the centre of his forehead as if there was a third eye behind it. He was the one man that could get into Quanchi's inner sanctum undetected.

"None of these inferiors could possibly match up to me," Quanchi replied. "The only reason he came so close was because I allowed him to."

"As you always say," the intruder replied, he produced a bottle of wine and poured a glass. He offered it to Quanchi but he gave no indication of noticing it was there. "No of course not," he muttered as he drank it himself. His open mouth revealed that he had no teeth but a tongue covered in sharp white objects that looked like thorns. "Such an excellent vintage," he sighed.

"Why are you here Triclops," Quanchi asked.

Triclops drained the glass and placed it on a nearby table before answering. "You know why I am here," he said.

"It will soon be dealt with," Quanchi dismissed. "He just needs to be patient."

"Xkitor has been waiting nearly three thousand years for this," Triclops countered. "He can wait longer, there is no denying that. But if he has to wait longer, then he will require his tribute on time."

"You can't keep doing this Triclops," Quanchi moaned. "We need some money ourselves."

"Don't get all high and mighty with me," Triclops warned, he was the only one who ever had or ever would threaten the Master and later die regretting it. "I was once an assassin too if you'll remember, I know how much you make."

"What can he do? What will happen if we refuse to pay?"

"You really want to know what will happen if you cross him?" Triclops questioned. "Surely you must realise that he will not stay trapped forever, and he has already proven he has a long memory."

"Oh very well, but this is the last time!" Quanchi declared. "I will not be ordered about by some..."

"Ridiculously powerful ancient creature," Triclops finished. "If you ask me, that is the one thing you should allow yourself to be ordered about by, if only for self-preservation."

Quanchi conceded the point with bad grace. "Is this all you came back for?" he questioned grudgingly.

"Wanted to check up on how the guild is doing, obviously," the former assassin replied. "I hear you have accepted a Judoon as a Superior, never thought you would do that."

"The idea was for him to suffer a tragic accident during the battle, but he has proven himself to be surprisingly competent. I may actually even keep him."

Triclops shrugged. "Well that's your prerogative," he said. "Far be it for me to tell you how to run your guild."

Quanchi made no indication of noticing the tone in the voice that suggested that Triclops very much wanted to tell him how to run the guild, he had noticed something out of the window slowly growing larger and larger. Triclops followed his gaze and also saw the object flying through space towards them.

"That looks like... no it can't be," Triclops said. The object twisted. "Blimey it is. So they decided to get rid of him anyway."

"No, they wouldn't do anything like that without my authorisation," Quanchi dismissed. "This is something else."

"This could be a continuation of your intentions for him to suffer a fatal accident," Triclops pointed out.

"No, something is happening," the Master insisted. "I can feel it."

Almost on cue a siren started to wail and several ships appeared out of hyperspace in front of them. "Oh dear, looks like you have upset someone really badly," Triclops commented. "I'll just take what I came for and leave you to it."

Quanchi did not give any indication of having heard him, he just continued to stare at the chaos that was being caused by the sudden appearance of Shadow Proclamation ships. As Triclops disappeared the Master said one single word: "Doctor!"

* * *

><p>Olljo would have expected the siren signalling that the base was under attack once more would have got rid of all the assassins giving him a hard time whilst trying to find new parts for damaged weaponry, and limbs in some cases, but he couldn't have been more wrong. A few did disappear, granted, but a vast majority remained behind and ended up hounding the new Quartermaster even worse.<p>

"This is a terrible Rhondium crystal!" an alien that looked like a human, but one who hadn't cut any of his hair or nails in his life, shouted at him.

"And how would you know?" Olljo retorted. "It's not damaged in any way, but if you don't want it there are plenty of people here who do."

The alien suddenly decided that it was perfect and disappeared. Olljo cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted (once again). "One at a time! I only have one set of ears, unlike some of you, so I can't actually hear more than one person at once."

To his surprise this seemed to make everyone stop. He watched in confusion as the assassins sheepishly parted to allow a figure to make his way to the counter. He looked human but his skin was like that of a rhino's; or that is how Olljo would have described him if he knew what a rhino was.

"What's all this?" Olljo exclaimed. As he spoke a realisation suddenly dawned on him. "You're not a Superior are you?"

"Not exactly," the assassin replied. "It appears that I am quite the celebrity though."

"Well I don't care about the politics that go on around here," Olljo retorted. "If they are happy for you to go first then you can, but make it quick."

"Good man," the assassin smiled. "I should have a box of spares, I know where it is if you will let me outfit myself from it. Meanwhile could you get me a dozen units of Albino blood, I am starving."

Olljo saw no objections from the rest of the assassins so allowed him through.

"Who is he exactly?" Olljo asked the assassins when he was sure the new arrival was out of earshot.

"A nasty Plasmavore," one of the assassins said.

"Plasmavore?"

"Creatures that feed on blood and alter their biology based on whatever blood they have been drinking."

"Oh," Olljo nodded his head in understanding. It wasn't so different to the cannibals back on Mondas that believed that by eating certain parts of another person they would pick up one of their aspects based around the body part they consumed. It was strange to come across a creature where this belief held true, to an extent. "He known to drink powerful creatures then?"

"If he was drinking enough Judoon blood to look like one then he must be powerful," the assassin nodded. "We wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of someone like that."

Olljo noticed that several assassins near the back were, one by one, exiting the room; they were clearly scared of what this assassin would do if he realised they were putting off joining the fight by wasting time outfitting. He smirked to himself and turned to collect the Plasmavore's blood.

When he returned to the counter he was shocked to discover a huge brawl. The assassin was ruthlessly cutting down each assassin with amazing flexibility and an impressive array of weapons. This wasn't that surprising, Olljo had seen assassins turn on one another countless times, the bigger surprise was that he was being aided by a Judoon who was wearing a patch over one eye. Now Olljo realised that the Plasmavore was working with the Shadow proclamation. Well Olljo had dealt with them before, and he was going to do so again.

He dived across the desk and picked up a star shaped blade that had been dropped by one of the assassins. Using the many assassins as a shield he was able to take the Plasmavore completely by surprise. The Plasmavore screamed in both pain and surprise as Olljo raked the jagged blade down his calf. He lashed out at his attacker but Olljo was already rolling away, blade now stained with yellow blood. He should now be easy to deal with, Olljo thought, the Judoon is going to be a tougher one to deal with, however. But the Judoon did have one weakness that Olljo was willing to exploit ruthlessly: a missing eye.

The Judoon, having already lost his pistol, threw a punch that sent five assassins flying and they didn't look like they would be standing up again in a hurry. Olljo was one of the only men left standing by now so it was only a matter of time before he became under the direct scrutiny of the enemy, he would have to act fast. He swiftly ducked down into the Judoon's blind side and sprinted to take him swiftly by surprise. Unfortunately whilst the Judoon may have been blind down one side he certainly wasn't deaf on that side so heard him coming.

It spun towards him and readied a punch. Olljo proceeded the move even further to the left, but the Judoon followed his every movement to the letter and merely spun around to keep his good eye on the Mondasian. In an inspired move of cunning Olljo suddenly began to lead the Judoon in the opposite direction, the side of his good eye. Surprised the Judoon quickly turned to stay with him but was unprepared for the sudden roll down his blindside. He spun quickly in an attempt to get him back in his vision but Olljo was too quick. He felt a blade stab into his arm, it did not hurt that much but it proved that the attacker had a serious advantage over him. He swung his arm at where he thought Olljo should have been but found that he had already moved.

Olljo dangled down the Judoon's back and was struggling to pull himself further up. He had sliced a few times into the Judoon's skin but had found that this had done little damage. The skin was obviously too tough for him to break through it with his little knife, but he had realised there was one part that he would be able to get: the Judoon's eye.

With a cry he dug his feet into the Judoon's back and forced himself up so that he had his arm wrapped around its neck. It now saw what he was trying to do and thrashed about in an attempt to dislodge him, but Olljo hung on too tightly. He passed the blade to his left hand and held it aloft in preparation to stab it into the Judoon's eye; Kabrok could only watch helplessly.

There was a sudden blow to the back of his head and he lost his grip. There was only a great feeling of defeat as he fell to the ground; he had failed. He landed painfully on his back and felt someone dive on top stop him from getting up. Even at this stage he fought like his life depended on it, thrashing about wildly under the controlling hands that tried to pin him down. His attacker grunted in pain as he hit them in the chest and he took this opportunity to turn the tables, rolling them on to their back and pinning them down himself. His opponent wriggled about but he was much stronger and held the advantage. He held them as steady as he could and raised his blade aloft, ready to plunge it down onto them.

All of a sudden his opponent stopped struggling and stared up at him in shock. It was only now that he realised that his attacker was a girl, a dark haired and rather fragile looking girl; and strangely familiar. All of a sudden his mind exploded in complete and utter shock.

"Broxa?" he said softly.

"It is you," she replied, even more softly.

Very slowly he lowered his blade to his side. There was a sudden explosion of pain of something hitting him very hard in the groin making him both laugh and cry. Broxa followed through by flipping him onto his back by levering one of his legs, then she forced him onto his front and twisted one of his arms painfully behind his back.

"Never drop your guard when confronted a cannibal," she taunted.

"Oh come on Broxa," he moaned slightly through pain. "You know it's me."

"Who? You just look like some Sundew bastard who was trying to blind my friend," she snarled.

Olljo groaned as she twisted his arm even tighter. "Alright you've proven your point," he shouted. "It's Olljo! The broker, look at my right hand if you don't believe me."

After a few seconds of hesitation he was released. He pulled himself into a sitting position and began to massage his arm.

Kabrok, having retrieved his pistol, growled threateningly at the Mondasian. "Don't try anything." He pointed his pistol at him to indicate what would happen if he did.

"Don't worry," Broxa said mischievously. "He won't."

Olljo looked her up and down. She looked different, dressed in clothes that were for warmer environments for a start but that wasn't the only thing he noticed. She looked healthier, there was more flesh on her bones and more colour to her skin although there was still the area of scale on her cheek.

"What are you doing here Broxa?" he asked in bewilderment.

"We could ask you the same question," a man's voice said. Olljo twisted round to see a man that he had thought he would never see again; it was the Doctor. "But I think I already know the answer."

And then Olljo started to laugh, softly at first but it soon grew into great booming, manic laughter. "Xess you Eemon!" he shouted. "Xess you! Trying to silence me, well I get the last laugh now. Oh yeah, Xess you!"


	36. Shadew 9

Shadew 9

"Eemon was preaching to the footpads, trying to get them to join him as he went to Goldbridge to take the operation. I tried to warn them that it was more of a curse than a blessing but he turned them against me, said I had been embezzling their money, keeping it for myself. When that wouldn't silence me we fought and he ended up stabbing me in the chest. The footpads set off for Goldbridge leaving me for dead. I slipped into unconsciousness thinking that it was the end, can't tell you the surprise when I woke up again in a blood coloured room with pulsating floors and walls."

"A Zygon ship," the Doctor recognised.

"Yeah, as I later discovered," Olljo nodded. "Turns out the Zygons had arrived in the nick of time to save me."

"Well they wouldn't have been able to create a body print of you if you had died," the Doctor commented cynically.

"I do realise that," Olljo replied as if it were obvious. "But it doesn't make me any less grateful. So after they healed my wounds and dis-dis-im-fek-fected my missing finger they took me back here. After establishing my past as a broker they decided to put me to work as the Quartermaster's assistant. After the previous attack by the Shadow Proclamation the Quartermaster was killed so I took his place."

"Was it their idea to cut your hair?" The Doctor queried.

"Not sure why," Olljo nodded. "They were certainly very relieved when it was finally removed."

"Yeah I bet you were locked in a room all on your own for a few weeks before they would allow you free roam of the base as well," the Doctor commented.

"Yes actually," Olljo nodded suspiciously. "How did you know?"

The Doctor punched the air in triumph but just about resisted a rendition of 'The Winner Takes It All' or 'We Are The Champions'. "Standard procedure I believe," he answered. "Is that right Alkrad?"

"Yes, new arrivals get put in quarantine for as long as a month in some cases, most are out within a few days," the Plasmavore replied between sips of blood. "They don't want any nasty illnesses spreading through the base."

"Illnesses?" Both Broxa and Olljo said in unison.

"You know what illnesses are Broxa," the Doctor said calmly. "That's what the Craxas was spreading in Alnwick."

"Oh yeah..."

"So you have been here the entire time?" The Doctor returned to questioning Olljo. "It never occurred to you to go somewhere else?"

"Well I don't have access to any transport of any kind," Olljo justified. "And they did save my life, I didn't even realise you were involved until a few days ago."

"Why what happened a few days ago?"

"Some informant told a Superior that you would be coming, and you wouldn't be alone," Olljo replied.

The Doctor's eyes widened in shock. "Did this informant have a name?" He questioned.

Olljo shrugged. "Didn't hear anyone mention it, the porters were treating him strangely though and he mentioned something about being out of his time."

"So he was a time traveller," the Doctor exclaimed.

"So what?" Alkrad cried. "There are always informants flying around with seemingly obscure and unhelpful pieces of information, that's not important." He moaned as he tried to stand up again. "The important question is if you are on the Doctor's side why were you trying so hard to beat us."

"I did apologise," Olljo sniffed. "How was I to know that you were with the Doctor?"

"Surely this informant must have given you a bit of a clue," Alkrad responded wryly.

Olljo nodded. "To be fair I had expected you to arrive with the initial attack, didn't expect anyone to bother with me and the Quartermaster. That all changed when those brutish creatures attacked us, sort of lost my sympathy towards you lot after that."

"Fair enough," the Doctor commented, he turned to the Plasmavore. "How do you plan to get us into Master Quanchi's quarters?"

"The idea was to lead you down a back route and hope that Quanchi is not there," Alkrad said through gritted teeth. "But I'm not going to be able to do that now."

"Well just tell us the route, we can get there without you."

"You won't be able to deal with Quanchi alone," Alkrad warned him. "Even the Superiors are scared of him."

"Well I'm not your average run of the mill assassin," the Doctor said with a grin. "I'm a Time Lord."

"I'm an average run of the mill assassin," he reminded him. "And I've killed a Time Lord."

"Well you took him by surprise, wasn't much of a fair fight," the Doctor countered. "Doesn't matter how good you are if you allow someone to sneak up on you like that, and I thought we were hoping that he's not there when we turn up."

"Yes but in the worst case scenario you would need me by your side," Alkrad persisted.

"With the Shadow Proclamation launching another attack when Sundew have barely recovered from the previous one there is a chance he will be distracted and may not be in his quarters," the Doctor said. "The chances of him staying in his quarters, playing the violin, while his guild burns is about the same as England winning the next world cup. But having said that Capello has left so they may have a better chance. But that's provided they get Harry Redknapp to replace him. Who am I kidding, I know they don't get him and that's why they go out in the first round. Losing 8 - nil to both Trinidad & Tobago _and_ Australia, laughed my head off, though the fact they ended up doing it again against South Africa was just weird. Sorry I'm rambling again aren't I."

"What happened next?" Broxa asked in interest.

"Well I immediately went off to investigate... Never mind, I'll tell you later. Alkrad, it won't matter, I won't be alone. Kabrok and Broxa will be with me."

"Not me?" Olljo questioned.

"You incapacitated Alkrad, you can make sure that he doesn't remain helpless while in this state," the Doctor said matter-of-factly.

After a moment's thought on this Olljo conceded the point. The Doctor noticed that Broxa seemed slightly disappointed which was slightly odd, normally she always jumped at the opportunity to go on any adventure with him. But then he realised.

"You can stay here if you want though," he offered.

She was slightly taken aback by this. "What? No you heard him you will need me."

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But it would be a bit selfish of me to force you to come along when you wanted to stay." When she looked like arguing further he added: "I would probably choose to stay behind if it was a Time Lord."

With Broxa deciding to stay the Doctor turned back to Alkrad to obtain the route to Master Quanchi's quarters, with that established he and Kabrok turned to leave. They checked that the corridor outside was clear before disappearing once again into the catacomb of corridors that was the Sundew base; and this time they did not have Alkrad to guide them.

* * *

><p>Caprinite stomped into Quanchi's quarters with great purpose, he was slightly surprised to find that the Master did not immediately start dancing around him, pretending to think he was someone trying to kill him, but these were desperate times.<p>

"Quanchi!" he rumbled. "The base is under attack! The Shadow Proclamation have launched a huge secondary attack."

"I am well aware of that, Superior," Quanchi drawled. "I am sure that with your vast wealth of training and experience you shall be able to repel them. Again."

"It's different this time," Caprinite insisted. "Our defences barely withstood their original attack, and they have been mostly disabled since then."

"And," Quanchi cut him off. "What do you want me to do about it?"

Caprinite shifted about uncomfortably. "The Superiors were wondering whether this would be a good opportunity for you to show off your skills to those assassins that need a little inspiring."

Quanchi twisted his head towards him. Caprinite could not see his face but was sure that it was probably screwed up in confusion. "When you say _the Superiors_ does that include all the Superiors?"

"Most of them," the silicon based alien said indistinctly.

"Including you?"

The giant once again uncharacteristically shifted about uncomfortably, causing sand to tumble off him like an avalanche. "I was merely in favour of asking whether you were considering taking part in the battle," he said eventually.

"Even you," the Master said in despair. "Was no one willing to be blunt? No don't answer that I already know. The last time I looked Sundew was a guild of assassins, and not just any assassins, the most fearsome killers that the universe has seen. I didn't realise it had degenerated into a band of frightened old women!"

"To be fair you do kill Superiors who dare to suggest ideas that you don't agree with," Caprinite pointed out.

"That as maybe," Master Quanchi said, "you are all killers, why should you be afraid of an impending invasion? You should relish this as an opportunity to test your skills in the most competitive environment. So the mechanical defences are breached, this does not mean that we are defenceless."

"So you won't join the battle?" Caprinite asked, slightly lost.

"Of course not!" Quanchi exclaimed. "Especially when most of the Superiors will be hiding behind the sofas themselves. It's at times like this that I really miss Jarion and Petris; the new Zygon Superior is useless."

"Although he did bring us that Mondasian," Caprinite pointed out. "There aren't many who can take down a squad of Ogrons on their own."

"He shouldn't get credit for that!" Quanchi exclaimed. "It was Petris who found him, he was more interested in the out of date Cyberman."

"There was a Cyberman?"

"Very early model," Quanchi explained. "Emotions were still instilled and he panicked. Mr. Garix had to eject the entire time vortex analysis section."

Caprinite stared back at him blankly. "How did I miss all that?"

"What do you mean you missed it?" Quanchi demanded. "We lost an entire wing and a key part of our defence system. That sort of thing is quite hard to miss."

"Oh I knew about losing the time vortex analyser," the giant Superior clarified. "I just didn't know it had been caused by an unstable potential. Anyway, I'll just tell the Superiors that they need to get ready for battle."

"By all means, but I will need you here," Quanchi said.

Caprinite looked at him questionably. "I don't understand," he said.

"The Doctor is here," Quanchi explained. "And he shall be coming here to access my records, so I shall be waiting for him."

"Oh so you want me to stay with you to help you destroy him," Caprinite realised.

"No," the Master stated. "I have to face him alone."

"What?" Caprinite exclaimed.

"It is very simple. The Doctor has been my enemy for too long, when I end it, it has to be through single combat between me and him."

Caprinite cocked his head in a confused manner. "So what do you want with me then?" He asked.

"You are to ensure he returns the favour," Quanchi replied, "and that no one disturbs us."

"So I am to act as guard dog now am I?" The Superior growled.

"Correct," Quanchi nodded. "You must ensure that no one, other than the Doctor enters my chamber. You may kill anyone else."

Caprinite knew better than to argue any further so grudgingly traipsed out of the room, trailing sand as he went. Master Quanchi turned back to the window he had been staring out of and resumed his admiration of the spaceships firing off powerful weapons and others exploding after taking too much damage; it was such a long time since he had been able to truly admire a proper battle. He allowed a metal rod to extend out of the arm of his robes. Very soon he would face the Doctor once again, and this time it would be him who came out on top.

* * *

><p>The Doctor came to a halt once more and looked up and down the alternative routes. Kabrok came to a stop behind him.<p>

"What is it now?" the Judoon complained.

"I don't know where we are," the Doctor said slowly. "All these corridors look the same."

"How can we be lost?" Kabrok questioned. "We have followed Alkrad's instructions to the letter."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, "but maybe we should have gone left at a different pillar."

"Eh?"

"Well lots of the corridors have pillars in them," the Doctor clarified. "Alkrad wasn't very specific."

Kabrok frowned. "What do we do then? Retrace our steps?"

"Considering how identical looking the corridors are that would probably just confuse us even more," the Doctor replied.

"What is the problem then?"

"This intersection looks almost identical to one we passed through earlier," the Doctor started to grin through amusement. "We could be going round in circles for all we know."

"You may be enjoying yourself, but I don't want to spend my time running round in circles in enemy territory," Kabrok growled in annoyance.

"Ok," the Doctor nodded. He pointed his finger at one of the corridors. "Eeny meeny miny moe," he recited alternating his pointing between the two corridors with each new word, "catch a Dalek by its toe... no hold on Daleks don't have toes. Catch a Cyberman by its... no they don't have toes either, just boots. Do Zygons have toes? Yes I think they do-"

Kabrok rolled his eye and stomped down the left hand corridor. "Let's go this way," he boomed. The Doctor stared after him for a few seconds, slightly miffed at being cut off like that, before nodding and rushing after him. They sprinted down the corridor just like before not stopping for anything, the Doctor looking back over his shoulder occasionally because old habits die hard. They came to another intersection and skidded to a halt.

"You're right!" Kabrok exclaimed. "We are going round in circles."

On the face of it the intersection did indeed look exactly like the one they had just used. "Not quite," the Doctor said. "I know it may look exactly the same as the intersection we just passed, but I can assure you it is a different one."

"How can you tell?"

"This wall has no scratch in it," the Doctor pointed. "This same wall at the other intersection did, therefore we are not at the same intersection as before."

"Yet we are no less lost than before," Kabrok added.

The Doctor nodded enthusiastically. "Twelve out of ten." He beckoned the Judoon down the right hand fork this time. "Let's try this way."

* * *

><p>"You two! What are you doing down here?" the two porters turned to the source of the voice. They briefly forgot that they were cuffed together so crashed into one another and became slightly entangled when they tried the first time. Eventually they were facing the new individual.<p>

"Oh hello Mr. Garix, what are you doing here?" shorty said casually.

"You shouldn't be here," the stocky humanoid hissed. "We are in turmoil and you are sitting here playing some stupid kinky game with one another!"

"And what do you expect us to do?" lofty queried. "We aren't fighters."

"Neither am I," Garix said. "But I'm still doing my bit."

"Well get on with it then, allow us to do what we need to do," lofty responded.

"Where has that Groske got to?" a gruff voice shouted from somewhere behind the porters. Garix raised his eyebrows as the porters both winced. Another shouted that they should go and find them.

A short blue alien came out from behind a box and sighed. "Sorry about this Mr. Garix," Colsok said, "but the Shadow Proclamation has arrived." He lifted up his pistol and fired a blast of red energy at the stocky humanoid. Just before it hit its target the energy suddenly dissipated into a blue force field that suddenly appeared, once the energy was absorbed the force field became invisible again; Colsok knew better than to fire any more shots.

The porters shared looks of confusion as several Judoon piled into the corridor. They saw Garix standing at the other end of the corridor from them and immediately cocked their weapons. "Sentence: execution!" the leader shouted.

"No don't bother," Colsok sighed. "He has a force field rigged up in front of him."

The leader looked at him in confusion. "Force field? There are no force fields are there?"

"Apparently the Plasmavore forgot to mention them," Colsok said through gritted teeth.

"No no no, I am the architect," Garix sneered. "I am not about to reveal all the base's secrets now am I?" He pressed a few more buttons on his wrist. "And I am sorry Judoon but I promised my clients that this base would be impregnable, and I do not intend to disappoint them while I am alive."

Several panels in the walls slide aside and the laser cannons that only normally retracted when the sensors picked up someone teleporting in retracted. The Judoon turned and fired their blasters at the closest turret, destroying it, but the others had also retracted by this time and they immediately began to fire upon the Judoon. Three were hit and killed before the others could sufficiently dive for cover. As chaos, destruction and confusion littered the Judoon ranks Colsok peered out from behind the box that he was hiding behind at the smirking architect.

He had seen those sorts of force fields before, perfect for absorbing any sort of energy projection that was hurled at it, yet less good for stopping any physical objects. You still wouldn't want to try and walk through it, unless you wanted your skin burnt off, but certain metals would be able to get through without any problem; conveniently Colsok's snare cable was made of such material. He pointed the snare at Garix and fired. The cable caused the force field to glow but otherwise went through without any trouble and latched onto Garix's chest, he only had enough time to look down at it in surprise before disappearing in a blue glow.

Colsok turned and pointed his snare gun at a point in the corridor and fired once more. There was a blue glow as Garix reappeared in the spot that Colsok was pointing to. Before he could react the laser cannon behind him continued firing at its selected Judoon target and unknowingly fired its lasers straight through the very man that had ordered it to attack. He grunted in shock and pain before slowly collapsing, Colsok immediately leaped over to him and attacked the control pad on his wrist with his blue stubby fingers. After a few attempts the laser cannons eventually ceased firing and stowed themselves away.

"That was very devious of you," one of the Judoon said as he stood up. "Are you sure you are not a Graske?"

Colsok turned to the speaker and started to shake. After a second he stopped and seemed to deflate. "I don't know," he said with brutal honesty.

"What?" lofty questioned, sitting up and holding his hand over his pale colleague's bleeding shoulder. "Surely you know your own species."

"My father was Graske," the Groske said miserably. "What does that make me? I am blue like mother but no Groske would have been able to do that." He slowly sat down and stared at his hands.

"We need to move out!" the Judoon leader said obliviously. He gave the order and the Judoon moved out leaving the porters and Colsok sitting there alone.

Shorty moaned in pain as lofty began to wrap a strip of cloth, that he had ripped off his shirt, around his wounded shoulder. "I told you to go left," lofty tutted.

"Well why did you go right then?" shorty exclaimed through gritted teeth.

"I thought it would be better for us to split up," lofty justified, "make it more difficult for the turrets to get us."

"We're handcuffed together you idiot!" shorty shouted. "How else did you think it would turn out?"

They continued to bicker in this manner. Colsok envied them, at least they had each other. What hope was there in the world for a creature that looked like a Groske but acted like a Graske.

* * *

><p>Kabrok slowed when he heard it. "We are approaching the lines of battle," he observed.<p>

"Yes I hear it too," the Doctor agreed. "Well we were bound to run into them at some point. They might be able to give us a clue."

They sprinted on towards the noise of the battle and eventually found themselves at an intersection that was being fought over vehemently by both sides. On one side was the Shadow Proclamation's army: squads of Judoon, Ogrons and a mismatch of Albinos and Anurans mixed in amongst them. They fought like an organised unit, ducking and firing in waves; not allowing the assassins the chance to pick them off one at a time.

Sundew by comparison were a rabble, completely ill-disciplined and with no continuity between each fighter. Each assassin had a different weapons, and when two were the same they had completely different styles. Individually they were clearly superior to the Shadows, but in this situation they could not match their discipline.

But their improvisation was to be applauded. Several that held energy shields were knelt down at front, acting as a makeshift barricade for the ones with ranged weaponry to take cover behind. In this way they had forced the Shadows into a stalemate.

"Which way now?" Kabrok asked.

"It must be close," the Doctor said. "I have this feeling in my bones, and my bones a rarely wrong. In fact," he grinned and started to sing, "these bones are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do, one of these days these bones..." He trailed off. "No that's not right, it should be boots not bones what am I thinking?"

"Do you know which way we need to go?" Kabrok asked, bringing him back to reality.

"Not sure," the Doctor shrugged. "Let's ask them." And with that, before Kabrok had realised what he was doing, he had walked out right into the middle of ensuing fire fight.

He strolled across casually as if nothing unusual was happening and stood in the middle of the intersection. "Excuse me," he said politely, "but could you tell me which way it is to Master Quanchi's quarters, please?"

One of the assassins stopped firing his rifle. "Straight down that corridor, first door on the right," he said helpfully, pointing as he said it.

"Thank you very much," he turned and proceeded towards the indicated corridor. He paused briefly to beckon Kabrok to follow him, thus avoiding several blasts of energy that flew through the area he was about to walk into. Kabrok cautiously stuck his head out only to pull it back as several energy blasts ricocheted off the wall.

The Doctor reached the other side and was very surprised when he realised that Kabrok was still on the other side. "Go on without me," the Judoon said valiantly.

"Why what's wrong?" The Doctor queried.

Kabrok gestured to the fire fight in between them, the Doctor blinked as if he were seeing it for the first time. "Just go on without me," Kabrok repeated.

The Doctor was about to reply but stopped himself when he caught a different sort of movement out of the corner of his eye. He peered down the Sundew end of the battle and spied several panels opening up in the walls to reveal several laser cannons. The assassins stopped what they were doing and stared at them in confusion, and then all hell broke loose.

"That's lucky," the Doctor commented with raised eyebrows.

Even the Shadows seemed surprised by Sundew's defence system turning against them and stopped firing. Kabrok took the opportunity to sprint across. "What happened there?"

"No idea," the Doctor replied, "let's go."

They continued down the corridor and took the first door on the right as instructed. The room was very basic, but that was probably because it was only an antechamber before the main room. Caprinite pulled himself up to his full height and stomped across the front of the door to the main chamber barring the way.

"Master Quanchi?" the Doctor questioned.

"You wish," Caprinite boomed.

"Oh well that's a relief," the Doctor sighed. "Unless you are going to try to kill us because in my many encounters with your species I have yet to discover an easily exploitable weakness for this sort of situation."

"You have met the Arekorns before?" Caprinite queried.

"Of course, there are few evil alien species that I haven't."

"You are the Doctor then," Caprinite correctly guessed. "Please enter, the Master is expecting you."

"Oh, thank you very much..."

"But your friend stays here," the Arekorn snarled.

Kabrok quickly unholstered his pistol but it was knocked out of his hand by a surprising turn of speed from the stone Arekorn. Caprinite then followed through by slogging the Judoon in the chest; it was quite a strange sight to see a Judoon being sent flying backwards like that. Kabrok pulled himself to his feet and cracked his knuckles with a snarl.

"I'll deal with him, Doctor," he said.

The Doctor paused halfway through the door to look back at the Judoon Colonel. "It was nice knowing you Kabrok," he said casually before disappearing into Master Quanchi's quarters at last.

The room was once again surprisingly plain, almost as if the owner did not require any creature comforts at all. Stood in front of a great window, admiring the ensuing space battle, was a figure wearing a black hooded cloak. Thinking that he hadn't noticed him, the Doctor strolled directly towards the computer at the back of the room.

"Doctor, I have been expecting you."

The Doctor paused and turned to the figure. "Always a pleasure to meet a homicidal maniac," he said pleasantly. "Though as they go you are rather disappointing really. You should be sitting on a swivel chair and spinning round to reveal that you are stroking a white cat, whilst twirling a ridiculously long, thin, black moustache and with an eye patch over one eye. You haven't really got the hang of this villain lark really, though I do like that whole talking to me while continuing to stare out of the window, that's quite cool."

"I have waited such a long time for this," Quanchi said with glee.

"Yes well done, classic line that one too," the Doctor complimented. "Now just reveal that you are my father as well and then you'll pass."

"You mean you do not recognise me? After all the battles we have fought, the species we have encountered together."

The Doctor frowned. "Can't say that I recognise you, though the cloak probably doesn't help."

"A lot has changed since our last encounter, only my hatred of you has allowed me to continue when I should have died," Quanchi explained eloquently. "Just like before."

"What are you saying?" the Doctor questioned. "Who are you? And don't say Master Quanchi, who are you really?"

And finally Master Quanchi turned round to face the Doctor. "I am the greatest friend who transformed into the ultimate foe, the drummer boy hell bent on universal domination. Even the last Great Time War could not end our long running feud. I am," and at this point he paused for dramatic effect, "the Master!"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong> **DUN DUN DUUUN!**


	37. Shadew 10: Master

Shadew 10: Master

The Doctor stared at the Master for a moment. Could he really have returned once more? Well the Master was well known for amazing feats of death aversion, in fact if avoiding death was an Olympic sport the Master would be disqualified for cheating. But somehow the Doctor was sceptical.

"No you're not," he said.

The Master faltered. "What?"

"You're not the Master," the Doctor repeated.

Quanchi remained silent for several seconds, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Of course I'm the Master," he insisted.

"The Master of this guild maybe, but not _the_ Master," the Doctor replied. "I should know."

"It has been a long time since our last meeting," Quanchi said desperately. "You could simply not recognise me."

The Doctor rolled his eyes and put his hands in his pockets. "There is no point in continuing like that, I know you're not the Master; and you know that I know that you know that you are not the Master," he paused to give the imposter time to fully comprehend the last statement and began to pace up and down. "The Master's plans may involve attempts to kill me or simply beat me so that I cannot stop him, but the overall objective is always to become Master of the Universe. Playing the master of a guild of assassins is a very long way from that, he wouldn't just give up on his ultimate plan and settle for something as low as this; no matter how much he enjoys killing people.

"Also that hooded cloak is completely wrong. There is no way that the Master would ever resort to wearing a hooded cloak, he is too vain to ever want to hide away like that. The only time that he has ever done that was when he used up all of his original lives and became that walking, decaying corpse."

"How do you know that hasn't happened again?" Quanchi asked, clearly clutching at straws.

The Doctor came to a halt and stared at him. "The Master has made many mistakes in the past but one thing he will never do is make the same mistake twice. He was given a second chance with his lives and he learnt not to waste them," he explained. "But the biggest and most indisputable clue." He paused for dramatic effect. "Time Lords are slightly psychic. Even those that are not so skilled in this art, like me, can sense other people's minds and taste the aura that is given off. The Master has a very distinctive flavoured mind, Columbian black coffee in case you are interested, Mortimus' was less distinctive: slightly fermented grape very easily confused with Oz Clarke's wine flavoured mind or Vansell's. That's probably why I didn't recognise him at first. Sorry rambling again.

"You however," he pointed at Quanchi firmly, "do not seem to have a mind for me to recognise. I am probing with all my limited skill but I just can't find anything, not even a trace of a shielded mind. so not only are you not the Master, you are not even a living creature. Let's see what you really are." He reached forward to pull the hood away from Quanchi's face. Before he could reach his arm came up and grabbed hold of his wrist, looking down the Doctor saw that the hand was completely silver.

"Ah," he realised. "You're a Raston Warrior Robot."

* * *

><p>"Alright, none of you move," the assassin snarled, blood dripping out of open wounds in his face.<p>

Broxa and Olljo glanced down at Alkrad's unconscious body, saw no signs of him waking up so decided to do what the assassin said. He had burst in on them taking Alkrad completely by surprise, allowing him to knock him out almost straight away, but clearly had not expected such staunch resistance from Broxa and Olljo otherwise he would have pulled his pistol out sooner; and probably would have avoided getting his face maimed.

The assassin pointed his pistol at Olljo. "You," he slid a set of handcuffs across the floor, "pick those up nice and slowly."

Olljo raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to kill us?"

"Just do it!" The assassin shouted.

Olljo held up his hands for peace before slowly bending over to pick up the handcuffs. Broxa stared at the assassin quizzically. "I thought that you were trained to kill people, not to threaten them and then make them pick up random pieces of metal."

"Well you see, we are also trained to spot other business opportunities and exploit them," he said with a sneer. "You may be a complete wildcat, but I'm sure the traders will see past that and pay high for you."

"You what?"

"You're going to become pleasure slaves!" The assassin declared with glee. The two Mondasians stared back blankly. "You know, pleasure slaves."

"Doesn't mean anything to me," Olljo said casually, fiddling about with the handcuffs.

"Where have you two been?" The assassin questioned.

"Mondas," they said in unison.

"Where? Oh never mind," he pointed his pistol at Olljo. "Cuff her."

"No, I'm not stupid," he exclaimed. "If I do anything to her she'll castrate me, she's already bitten one of my fingers off."

"Castrate?" Broxa questioned.

"New word I've picked up," he said proudly. "One of the assassins threatened to do it to me if I didn't hurry up."

The assassin growled in annoyance. "If she tries anything like that I will shoot her," he snarled.

"She don't care about that," Olljo laughed, "she's a natural born survivor, even better than me."

"Well then if she doesn't allow you to do it without any trouble I will shoot you," the assassin threatened.

Now Olljo laughed even more heartily. "As if that's going to stop her!" His laughter trailed off when he saw her expression. "It won't stop you right?"

"Just do it," she said with a sigh. "The scary cannibal plan clearly isn't getting us anywhere. It's not as if it is anything big anyway."

Olljo looked at the assassin, shrugged and slapped her on the back of the head. "Happy now?"

"Not like that you idiot!" The assassin exclaimed. "Put the handcuffs on her, bind her hands together."

"Oh," the Mondasians said in unison. Broxa turned to him with a look of resignation and held out her hands in front of her ready to be cuffed together. "Go on then."

"Behind your back if you don't mind," the assassin drawled. "I'm not that stupid."

She gave him a rebellious look but obliged. There were two loud clicks as Olljo fitted the handcuffs round her wrists. The assassin smirked and produced another set. "And now for you."

Olljo took a small step back as the assassin came towards him. In his determination to end this whole business quickly he didn't check that Broxa had been handcuffed properly, and then he made the mistake of turning his back on her. He was stunned when the cuffs were slammed against the back of his head, allowing Olljo to knock his pistol out of his hand. Before he could recover he felt cold steel against his neck and was suddenly unable to breath.

"But it appears you were this stupid," Broxa taunted as she pulled the handcuffs even tighter around his neck. He gagged and struggled but she was surprisingly strong. Slowly he fell to his knees, stopped clawing at the chain around his neck and became still; his eyes widened in pain. Once she was certain that he was dead she finally released her hold and allowed him to fall inelegantly to the floor.

She sighed with relief, stood up so that she was face to face with Olljo and kneed him in the balls. "What was that for?" he gasped after a few minutes of recovery.

"For hitting me," she replied with a glare, but soon cracked up into a smile that turned into laugh. Olljo found himself mirroring her.

* * *

><p>"I suppose the real question should be: what is a Raston Warrior Robot doing pretending to be Gallifrey's most infamous son?" the Doctor questioned.<p>

"Because you wouldn't remember me otherwise," Quanchi responded.

"Oh you needn't have worried about that," the Doctor insisted. "I remember all my enemies." He paused to ponder for a moment. "Though having said that, I don't remember ever encountering a Raston Warrior Robot that could talk before."

"I wasn't always able to talk, I have been upgraded since our encounter on the Death zone," the robot explained. "You were the one person to escape me. The one person to survive an encounter with one of us."

The Doctor regarded him with a look of surprise. "You're bitter? Since when have you robots had any sort of emotions?" he questioned. "And this name: Quanchi. Where does that come from? You don't make any sense. You were designed as the ultimate killing machine with no emotions or personality, yet me managing to survive an encounter with you caused you to gain a desire for revenge, the ability to come up with plans beyond simply killing anything that moves, and a name."

"You should not have escaped him," Quanchi said in completely new tone of voice. "The Raston Warrior Robot was to be the perfect killing machine, yet you managed to survive it."

"Well to be fair you almost had me," the Doctor pointed out. "It was only the Cybermen that allowed me to escape, and you killed them efficiently enough."

"But he shouldn't have allowed anyone to escape," Quanchi insisted. "You should have been killed as well."

"Why do you keep saying he as if it were not you, unless..." the Doctor's eyes widened in realisation. "Now that is clever. Quanchi, one of the inventors of the Raston Warrior Robot, you have implanted your own consciousness into your creation." Quanchi said nothing. "You could not believe that your greatest creation could be outsmarted by an old man and a woman so you put yourself into the machine to prevent it from making any mistakes like that again. What is it with mad inventors who just cannot handle losing?"

"And now you are in my clutches, and this time you will not escape," Quanchi said coldly. "Simply standing still to hide from the motion sensors will not work this time. You cannot blow me up and I can reattach any limbs that get cut off, even my head."

"That was very unoriginal," the Doctor commented. "And you forgot: I have grown more powerful than you can possibly imagine. Also if you simply wanted to commit an act of revenge you could have simply cornered me on some lonely planet or moon. Seems a bit pointless to set up a guild of killers and then ignore me for several decades."

"I could wait," Quanchi explained. "I have plenty of time now that I will not age, time to build up my fortune."

"Well that's just stupid," the Doctor exclaimed. "You're a robot, what do you need vast wealth for?"

"What does a Dragon do with all its gold?" Quanchi replied cryptically.

"It sleeps on it," the Doctor replied matter-of-factly. "You on the other hand do not need to do anything like that, and I don't see anything like that. Although from what I can tell, the guild is being run into the ground through budget cuts which don't make much sense. What are you doing with the money?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Quanchi replied. "But enough of this idle chit-chat, it is time I killed you and collected the bounty on your head."

"Oh so someone has placed a bounty on my head, I was getting the impression you just decided to do that on your own." The Doctor stepped backwards and held his arms out wide. "Go on then. But first, as my last request could you perhaps perform an entire seven hour opera, whilst saying one of your weaknesses in between each song and spelling out the name of the one trying to kill me when you run out of weaknesses."

"No."

"You would deny the last wish of a dying man?" the Doctor exclaimed in mock surprise. "Could you at least tell me the one who has sent you to kill me?"

"No!" Quanchi roared. He lifted up his arm and fired an arrow straight at the Doctor's chest. But somehow the Doctor was not there anymore, he was walking over to the over side of the room.

"Fine I shall find out myself," he said as he arrived at the computer on the wall. He started to skim through the records. "Lots going on at the moment," he observed. "Oh look! Tommy Baker wants to be friends on Facebook, and Matthew Smith is suggesting that you become friends with Jonathan Pertwee. Oh and Sticksports have set up a new stick football game, they should have stuck with stick cricket really all the other stuff they have tried to do with it is really quite ropey, the stick baseball is just impossible for a start and-"

He jumped back as the arrow smashed into the screen. Before he could make a witty remark several more arrows flew at him, they landed on the wall creating a perfect outline of him. "Show off," the Doctor muttered before ducking and rolling to the other side of the room. An arrow thudded into the wall in the position his throat had been just milliseconds earlier.

The Raston Warrior Robot turned to where the Doctor was now standing and clapping to a constant rhythm that only he could hear. "Well if you aren't going to sing for me then I'll sing for you," the Doctor said. "Xessing killjoy." He took a step to the left to avoid an arrow and began to sing.

"Party Rock is in the house tonight." He moved back to his original position to avoid the next arrow. "Everybody just have a good time." This time he caught the arrow that was coming at him and used it to block the second one that was coming at him. "And we gonna make you lose your mind. We just wanna see ya." He pretended to dodge sideways but actually remained in one place causing Quanchi to completely miss. The Doctor smirked mockingly. "Shake that."

While he had been singing the Doctor had been mostly static, only moving the minimal amount required to avoid each incoming arrow at exactly the right moment. But upon coming to the end of the verse he suddenly exploded into movement, dancing wildly in time to some music that only he could hear. Quanchi spun about firing his arrows wildly but unable to hit his fast moving target whose dancing always seemed to make sure he was never in line with any incoming arrows. The Doctor dance one way then moon walked back the other, skilfully parrying arrows with the arrow he had caught.

In a move that took Quanchi completely by surprise the Doctor dived straight at his attacker, pulled the hood of his cloak further down his face, completely obscuring his vision and stabbed the arrow in his hand through the fabric to hold it in place. Quanchi lashed out with his hands but the Doctor had already jumped back to admire his handiwork.

"That'll do for now," he remarked as Quanchi continued to thrash about. He strolled over to the entrance. "Colonel Kabrok, are you still alive."

There was a loud crash. "Yes!" Kabrok shouted.

"Oh, well done," he said in surprise. "Could you possibly spare a moment to throw in your data spike?" He heard the Judoon grunt and gasp, which was swiftly followed by another loud crash. "Never mind, I can hear you're busy. I'll try to retrieve the hard drive manually."

He flicked out his golden penknife and strolled over to the computer once more. Before he could reach it there was a loud ripping noise and Quanchi appeared in front of him. No longer wore his long black coat so his true robotic form was revealed; he looked like a skinny man wearing a silver morph suit; the arrow that the Doctor had used to pin down his hood was still sticking in his head. He raised his hand and fired an arrow into the Doctor's chest from point blank range. But instead of hitting the Doctor it flew off several centimetres to the left.

The Doctor screwed up his face in confusion. He knew that the Raston Warrior Robot was well known to be sadistic, delighting in toying with opponents by deliberately missing. But in this stage of the fight surely he would be concentrating on simply killing the Doctor outright. The robot fired again and once again missed.

"Damn you Doctor!" Quanchi exclaimed. "You have broken my targeting system!"

"Oops," the Doctor replied. "Would you like me to buy you a new one?"

"No! I want you to die!"

"Perfect!" the Doctor exclaimed. "When I first came in I didn't think you were taking this whole villain thing seriously at all, but that line! Brilliantly done."

Quanchi held out his arms and two thin blades extended from his wrists like his arrows had done, crossed them across his chest threateningly and then struck forwards with them. the Doctor barely managed to parry with his penknife but after a few swipes he was disarmed. He jumped backwards and then turned to run but found himself face to face with the robot again. It mercilessly slashed at him, cutting several strips of leather off his jacket and slicing into his arm.

The Doctor fell to the ground and clutched at his bleeding arm, but felt no pain. He looked down to see the skin quickly knitting itself back together, he was almost at the end of his regeneration but there was still enough of the residual bio-energy to heal any damage.

"One last push," he said to himself. He jumped up as Quanchi started to swing his blades down on him. With a roar he punched the Raston Warrior Robot in the chest. Coupled with the final explosive release of bio-energy the force of the blow was enough to send Quanchi flying backwards to crash into the wall.

He flexed his hand and was unsurprised to see it unharmed, swiftly pulled an arrow out of the wall and held it up in front of him just as Quanchi appeared in front of him once more. Quanchi slashed with his two blade like a pair of scissors but before they could hit his target they were blocked by the Doctor's arrow. He tried to force his way through, but the Doctor held firm.

"And this is where your robot mind falls flat," the Doctor stated. "You will just continue to try and break through for eternity even though it is apparent that it won't succeed. You don't stop to think of the proper strategy to get out of this lock do you, you just plough on with this brute force and ignorant approach."

"But you are forgetting that I do not have the mind of a robot," Quanchi snarled. He retracted his blades, pulled his arms away and produced them again, now free to attack the Doctor again. But this was exactly what the Doctor wanted. With his defences down the Doctor stabbed the arrow through Quanchi's chest and rolled away to brandish another arrow.

"Now you can either surrender," the Doctor warned, "or this next arrow goes through your central processor. You may be able to repair yourself eventually, but the mind of Quanchi will be gone and you will simply be a mindless killer once again."

Quanchi did not move, only his head slowly tilted forwards so that he was looking at the arrow in his chest. "Fuck you Doctor," he said.

"No need for that," the Doctor replied. "I'm generously offering you a chance to run away with the possibility of a rematch in the future."

Quanchi turned round and pointed his blades at the Doctor. Even though he had no face his body language told the Doctor that if he did then it would be twisted into a vicious snarl. "Fuck you!" he shouted. "Fucking, Xessing Time Lord!"

And then there was a creak and the Raston Warrior Robot who called himself Master Quanchi slowly shrank into the arrow with the sound of metal being crushed. The arrow hung in mid air for a few seconds before falling to the floor with a clatter. Master Quanchi had finally been defeated.

The Doctor picked up the arrow and examined it with interest. Once he realised what made this arrow different to the others he laughed at how lucky he had been. He trailed off when he spotted the silhouette of a giant figure enter the room.

"I should warn you, I have just killed Master Quanchi," he warned.

"So I see," the figure said. He stepped into the light and deposited a sandstone goat's head on the ground in front of him. "And I have killed the Arekorn Superior."

For the first time in his current life the Doctor was speechless. He knew that Judoon were very strong but he also knew that there was no way that anything, other than another Arekorn, that could defeat an Arekorn in close combat. But it appeared that today was going to be a day of impossible feats being achieved. First he had defeated the unbeatable master of the Sundew assassins guild and now Kabrok had beaten an Arekorn, a fearsome creature of stone, in close combat.

To be fair neither had come out of it unscathed. While the Doctor now had several holes in his jacket and patches of material missing, Kabrok had several deep gashes in the side of his face and was currently dripping yellow blood across the floor. The Judoon regarded the computer with the smashed screen.

"I don't suppose Quanchi told you who had placed the bounty on your head did he," he said. The Doctor shook his head. "Pity, looks like we will never know now."

"The computer isn't destroyed," the Doctor said hurriedly. "The screen may have been smashed, but the rest of the machine works perfectly. That's why I wanted your data spike: so I could access the information on it."

"Oh right," Kabrok stomped over to the terminal and plugged a smart phone like device into one of the sockets. "The battles have been raging," the Judoon said conversationally. "Most assassins have either surrendered or fallen, the rest are likely to surrender in a few minutes. It turns out that Colsok ran into the architect who had the controls for all the defensive turrets around the base, he used that against them."

"And there was me thinking that all architects of villains' headquarters were disposed of as soon as their work was finished," the Doctor mused.

The data spike beeped signalling that it had downloaded all the data from the computer. Kabrok unplugged it and started to skim through the data. "Hey look at this," he said suddenly. "All these word documents in a folder marked fanfiction."

"What you mean Master Quanchi wrote fanfiction in his spare time," the Doctor burst out laughing.

"Complete waste of time, no wonder they were running out of money if he was spending all his time writing stories instead of working," Kabrok commented. "You certainly wouldn't catch me wasting time writing fanfiction."

"Yeah well you can't actually write can you."

"We can actually, how do you think I do the paperwork."

"I stand corrected."

"Ah here we are, recent contracts," Kabrok skimmed through the list. "Ah here we are. One specific contract on the Doctor involving three separate stages of action, to be given to assassin directly, origin: Earth, unspecified. Carried out by Mechween: deceased, contract since suspended."

The Doctor looked over his shoulder at this file. "That sounds a lot like the Pilot Fish Queen," he commented. "So that was a completely separate event was it?"

"Apparently," Kabrok shrugged. "We should investigate this unspecified employer anyway. Oh, interesting. It appears that this same employer also sent Alkrad on a contract, the last contract he did before he defected."

"They sent him to kill the Shadow Architect," the Doctor realised. "Whoever this is seems quite keen on weakening the justice systems."

"We shall have to investigate that one further," Kabrok said, putting a mark next to the important entries. He skimmed through to find the important contract on the Doctor. "Here it is, open contract on the Doctor, time travel authorised. Not on my watch it isn't. The location of the employer is not specified but I do have a name."

"Well that's fine, much easier than if I only had the location. Who is it them?"

"Not sure how to pronounce it, Ex-Kitor?" Kabrok guessed.

The Doctor's eyes widened in shock. "X... K... I... T... O... R?" Kabrok nodded. "Xkitor," the Doctor breathed.

"I'll have the proclamation look into it," the Judoon offered, oblivious to the Doctor's distress. "We will find him, don't worry about that Doctor."

"I know where he is," the Doctor said. Only now did Kabrok notice how serious the Doctor had become. "Thoruxa Medio. I swore I would never return."

* * *

><p><strong>End of part 5<strong>

**Yes it was a cruel trick, stating he was the Master only to reveal that he wasnt really, but I couldnt resist. I hope you can forgive me.  
><strong>

**The next chapter will sort of act as a conclusion like the conclusion to Birth of a Nemesis did, but unlike that chapter acts more as a bridge into the next part than as a proper rounding off of this part, as it has mostly already been done here. As such, the next chapter is not going to be part of any part, it is going to be a standalone chapter, I hope it works.**


	38. Bridge to Thoruxa Medio

**Author's note: in amendment to the previous Author's note where I said that the next chapter would act as a standalone chapter bridging the gap between Sun and Shadows and the final part: First Evil; this has ended up being too long so I have ended up splitting it in two rather than have one ridiculously long chapter.**

* * *

><p><span>The Bridge to Thoruxa Medio<span>

The Doctor paced up and down, for once completely silent in his ponderings. Thoruxa Medio had been centuries ago, no millennia, near the start of his first life in fact. But Xkitor had been defeated, surely if he was going to return he would have done so sooner wouldn't he? He froze as a horrible thought suddenly occurred to him. What if Xkitor had been waiting for the opportune moment.

Those meetings with his previous incarnations now came to mind. Was this what they were warning him about, an upcoming reunion with one of his oldest foes? No they were trying to tell him something else. And how would they know, being figments of his imagination they only knew things that he already knew, or the things that he knew but didn't know that he knew, so would not have known about this either. Yet he felt that what they were trying to tell him was still linked to Xkitor's sudden reappearance.

"Full circle," a voice echoed in his head. What was that all about? What could that possibly mean? And then it clicked into place.

In his first adventure with Lisa they had battled with Harry, and when her adventuring with him had come to an end it had been in a repeat encounter with Harry; an encounter which had proven to be fatal. Did that imply that the same thing was now going to happen to him? Normally he would scoff at such a suggestion, but that didn't take into account the message that his previous lives had been trying to tell him.

He glanced out the window at the calm that had befallen the space around the Sundew base since the Shadow Proclamation had taken it. He knew that while everything looked calm now there was going to be absolute chaos once Kabrok returned and Shadon found out that he had been cut loose.

"Who's Xkitor?" The Doctor smiled to himself when he heard his companion's voice. He slowly turned to face her.

"I envy you, you know," he said. "One of these days it would be nice to simply sit back, relax and let someone else save the day. Perhaps we should swap, you revel in adrenaline that comes from a close quarter fight like the one I had here."

"Actually I had my fair share of action where I was too," Broxa explained. "So who is this Xkitor person then?"

"I'm going to have a quick nap," the Doctor carried on as if he hadn't heard her question, "need to check up on something. Good thing you are here, I need someone to keep an eye on me while I'm away."

Broxa frowned. "Why would you need someone to keep an eye on you?" She asked. "The Shadows have won."

"Just because the right team has won doesn't mean that there is no longer anyone around who means me harm. The one's that came with us in the TARDIS are not the only one's here," he explained. "So just make sure no one that you don't know or trust comes near me." He leaned back against the wall. "Was the Albino blood nice by the way?"

She blinked a couple of times before responding. "I haven't been drinking any blood."

"There's a spot on your collar," he said casually. As Broxa gave herself away by looking for this spot of blood that didn't exist the Doctor smirked, put his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes.

* * *

><p><em>[flashback]<em>

The residents of the normally quiet town continued about their daily business, the triplet suns beating down on their backs only sparing a brief glance at the two strangers wandering down the centre of the street. It was quite obvious that they were strangers, even if their attire was quite normal for a resident, for the part of the street they were wondering down was normally reserved for vehicles, they had light coloured skin whereas all natives were dark and they were staring about the place in wonder. The town was dull even by the standards of the planet, burnt orange stone buildings matching perfectly with the sand.

"It's so amazing Theta," the female stranger exclaimed. She wore long purple robes that was getting quite grubby at the hem due to rubbing along the sandy ground. Her hair was brown and was cut short and neat. "We're on a completely different world!"

The stranger known as Theta smiled and nodded in agreement. He had long blonde hair that he had tied in a ponytail behind his head. The robes that he wore were orange. "Reminds me of Low Town back on Gallifrey," he said.

"If you say so," she replied, unconvinced.

"No look," Theta insisted. "Simple houses dotted about, people wandering about or doing work with their hands. Everyone is dirty, there are children running about aimlessly, even the odd old man unable to keep their eyes off us. They may not live in wooden huts but this is almost exactly like any Shabogan town, for all we know there could be a huge citadel where the upper classes sneer down on little towns like this whilst living in luxury and seclusion."

She hit him lightly on the arm. "Don't be so pessimistic."

"I'm not being pessimistic, I was just supposing," he insisted. He stopped and regarded the corner of a building where a gang of youths were congregated. "That could almost be the exact spot where Koschei had the fight with those Shabogans."

She giggled at the memory. "Borusa was so angry, wasn't he," she sobered quickly. "How is he by the way, I hear things have been... hard."

"He is struggling," Theta said diplomatically. "But he'll bounce back, he's too good to allow this crisis to keep him down forever."

"Shouldn't you be back there helping?" she questioned.

"I would only get in the way," Theta said, "and Lord Oakdown made it very clear what would happen if he ever saw me again. What Koschei needs right now is a bit of seclusion so he can put his head down and work his way out of it without the distractions that I would cause. He will get out of it, and I'll be there to congratulate him when he does but right now it is best if I just leave him alone."

She shrugged. "You know him best," she said. "Seems a shame for him to miss this."

"He wouldn't appreciate it like we do, but let's not worry about those back on stuffy, old Gallifrey," he gestured to their surroundings. "We've got a whole planet to explore."

She grinned and clasped his hand in hers. "Where are we exactly?" she asked.

"Thoruxa Medio according to the time capsule computer. Second planet of the Thoruxa system, Zed Alpha Two Four Devyatnadtsat Phi," he paused. "What's that noise?"

They both turned a full 180 degrees to stare down the centre of the street towards the origin of the noise. Just in the distance Theta could make out a grey blur slowly getting larger. "What is that?" the female wondered.

The whirring got louder as the grey object grew closer. The whirring was then accompanied by the sound similar to a claxon, it was repeated several times but the two strangers remained motionless. The female looked on in interest, pondering on what it could be, but her companion was starting to narrow his eyes in suspicion; especially when the claxon was sounded again, for a longer duration.

Theta's eyes widened as he suddenly recollected about his time when he had partaken in some secret, private study on far off, mostly regarded as irrelevant, planets. In this case he thought about a particular object he had read about that was very commonly used by residents of the class five world of Sol 3. "Car," he breathed. "Get back!" He shouted, grabbing his friend as he did so and quickly pulled them to the side of the street. Milliseconds later the grey blur shot by accompanied by a shout of the Thoruxan equivalent of 'jackasses!'

"Whoa," was all that the female stranger could manage. "What was that?"

Theta let go of her and stared down the street after the vehicle. "Land based vehicle," he said. "Now that is interesting."

"What a strange invention," she observed.

"Well we aren't on Gallifrey anymore," Theta pointed out. "They are bound to do some things differently."

"Yes, but why would anyone need something like that?" She persisted. "What is wrong with walking?"

"Why did we choose to steal an old time capsule?" He replied philosophically. "What was wrong with our lives on Gallifrey? Why was the Eye of Harmony created? Why do we have ships that can take us across the stars? Why were the time capsules created in the first place?" He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. "Let's stick to the sides from now on shall we?"

_[end of flashback]_

* * *

><p>The Doctor carefully shouldered his way through the throng of people, doing well to resist the urge to dance the music that was being played. It occurred to him that nobody would bat an eyelid if he did, with them all concentrating heavily on the roulette wheels spread around the room (and the fact that this was a dream), but he had allowed himself to enter the dream world for a reason and he couldn't afford to allow himself to get distracted this time. He needed to find the Doctor who had set up home in this dream.<p>

The crowd whooped, cheered and groaned in direct correlation to how well they were doing in their respective games. Men and women with plastic smiles wandered through the crowds carrying trays of drinks. There were beeps and jingles from the fruit machines, the flicker of cards being shuffled, the rattle of the roulette table and the clicking of chips being passed about; in short it was a standard casino. There was only one Doctor who was outlandish and eccentric enough to choose a casino as his dreamworld, yet he was nowhere in sight.

The Doctor continued through the casino, searching for the tell-tale tweed jacket that would mark him out from the others. In fact it was the overzealous celebration from a craps table that allowed the Doctor to pinpoint his past self.

A man in a tweed jacket wearing a bow tie and a Stetson cowboy hat, was punching the air like an over-enthusiastic four year old while several people clapped politely. The Doctor watched this man with an almost shocked smile, had he really been that young? Well he was quite young now actually but he had almost forgotten how young this life had been, due to ageing to death like in his first life; in the last few centuries of his eleventh life he had seen an old man in the mirror every day. It was such a long time ago. He had had a good long run though, at least a thousand years, and it was nice to see what he looked like when he was young once more; he never got that luxury with First, almost as if everyone (including himself) had forgotten that he had been young at all.

Dude (the Doctor's nickname for this incarnation) turned back to the table and started to distribute his chips around the table. Other people also began to place bets, throwing chips down and talking loudly. The Doctor reached into his pocket and was unsurprised to discover a handful of gambling chips, well it was a dream after all. He strode purposefully over to the table and gently wriggled through the crowd to the edge of the table. He threw down a few chips and instantly the atmosphere changed.

Dude slowly raised his head so that his eyes were trained on the Doctor, the same eyes of all the other incarnations he had met in these dreams. "Betting against me?" Dude said with distaste. "Playing the dark side? Should I be concerned about your current personality?"

"Oh come on, me putting money on you losing is hardly indicative of my current personality," the Doctor complained.

"No," Dude agreed. "Not really playing in the spirit of things though."

"This is a game of chance," the Doctor justified. "The odds are you won't keep winning forever, you won the previous roll so you may lose this time. Seeing as there is an option to put money on you losing it seems stupid to not do so every so often."

Dude nodded in a sudden understanding. "Yes I see what you're doing," he said. The Doctor nodded in appreciation. "You're trying to piss me off," Dude finished. "Just like with Three and Six."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Your being childish now," he chided. "Although there isn't much point in being grown up if you can't be childish occasionally. Look you made us meet in a casino you could at least have the good grace to allow me to play against you. It isn't much fun if I have to be on your side all the time."

"Alright then," Dude gathered up the dice and held them up for the red headed girl stood next to him to blow on. "Wish me luck." She responded by blowing on it seductively. He then turned and offered the dice the brunette girl on his other side.

"Hold on a minute!" the Doctor exclaimed. "That's Amy!" the red headed girl stared back blankly.

"That is correct," Dude nodded. He indicated the brunette who had just blown on the dice like Amy had. "She should be familiar too, as should the man next to you."

The Doctor whipped his head round and jumped out of his skin upon realising that it was Rory. "It isn't really them though is it," the Doctor said sadly.

"No, they just merely look like all my companions," Dude nodded. "Everyone here travelled with me."

The Doctor scanned the room and saw that he was correct, each person had travelled with him in his 11th life, several of which appeared more than once. The most notable being that each dealer or banker at the various different tables was the slightly overweight, unshaven Craig Owens. "Wow," the Doctor said eventually.

"Good isn't it," Dude said with a grin, and he threw the dice. They bounced off the back wall and rattled to a halt, one dice showed five dots while the other showed six. Dude punched the air and whooped with joy.

The Doctor smiled a smile that is normally perfected by people who have discovered that their lottery numbers have come up on the week that they forgot to buy a ticket. "That's just how it goes sometimes," he muttered. "Alright my turn, I think."

Craig, after distributing the chips amongst the winners, collected up the dice and offered them to the Doctor along with three others. The Doctor chose two at random and rolled them about in his hand. "What is this place really?" he wondered. "Seems odd that you would create this place in such detail, including all your companions, just so we had a place to talk in."

"I suppose you never wondered what happens to us after we regenerate," Dude said, placing several gambling chips on the table.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at the fact Dude was betting against him but decided not to say anything; after all he had started it. "Well you never did," he pointed out. "Enlighten me."

"We create dreams for us to inhabit," Dude said. "This casino is a place I created after I regenerated for me to live in."

"Oh I see, you have each been given a little corner of my subconscious mind to exist in and have shaped it to your will," the Doctor said. "I suppose that begs the question: why is Previous' idea of heaven a big empty beach."

"Actually the beach is a shared area," Dude explained. "We all go there when we want some peace and quiet."

"And a chance to skim some stones," the Doctor added. "And you sit here and just wait for me to contact you in my sleep. Why haven't I done so before? And why did First not take me to his world?"

"I would guess that you didn't delve deeply enough into the dream world," Dude shrugged. "You were only sleeping lightly that time. Are you going to throw then?"

The Doctor blinked and looked down at the dice in his hands having completely forgotten all about them. He shrugged and threw them absent-mindedly. "By the way, I've worked out what you have been trying to tell me," he said.

Dude didn't seem to be listening, his eyes following the arc of the dice perfectly. One dice came to a stop showing six dots on the upper face, the other bounced a couple of times before coming to a rest itself. There was a collective moan of confusion from the crowd, even Dude blinked several times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. The die had landed with its upper face showing seven dots.

Dude stared at the Doctor, his face showing a complete mixture of emotions; the Doctor was quite impressed by the variety of expressions his past self was using. Eventually he managed: "How?"

"Just lucky I suppose," the Doctor shrugged. "Although this is more a result of bad luck than good. I don't see myself rolling thirteen again before sevening out. You win."

"Why thirteen though?" Dude questioned. "That wouldn't happen by chance, you did that on purpose."

"Well I didn't plan to do it," the Doctor shrugged, "but this is a dream, strange things happen in dreams. Coincidentally that is the answer that I was about to give to you." Dude raised his eyebrows at this. "That's right, I am the thirteenth, and therefore the last, Doctor."

"I think you had better come with me," Dude said gravely.

The Doctor followed as his eleventh incarnation turned away from the table and began to stroll to the other end of the casino. The crowd did not give them a second glance as they made their way through the casino; it was quite eerie actually considering that he actually knew them all. Dude stopped in front of a door and knocked eleven times. After waiting a few seconds he opened it and walked through, the Doctor, intrigued by the knocking followed.

The door opened up into a large meeting room. The walls were dark and nondescript apart from a few flaming torches dotted about to create an ambient light. In the very centre of the room was a round mahogany table with thirteen seats set up around it. The Doctor just gaped as Dude went and sat down in his seat for eleven other men had also entered and were seating themselves at the table.

"Well, sit down then," one of them said once they were all seated. The Doctor nodded and slowly took the empty seat.

Each man had the same eyes, but they got progressively older as you went round the table until they reached the Doctor. The one with the youngest eyes was seated on the Doctor's left yet had a body which only one other could rival for age; and the owner of that body was seated on the Doctor's right. They were the Doctor's previous twelve incarnations.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: the brunette is supposed to be the eleventh Doctor's new companion played by Jenna-Louise Coleman upon the departure of Amy and Rory, I obviously do not know the character's name yet, I may well add it in later when we learn it.<strong>


	39. Bridge 2: Bad Luck

Thirteen Doctors: Unlucky for some

The Doctor greeted each incarnation in order, going clockwise around the table. "First." The 1st Doctor smiled warmly with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Clown." The 2nd Doctor, dark haired and wearing a baggier version of First's outfit, grinned back jovially.

"Dandy." The 3rd Doctor rolled his eyes but made no comment.

"Wait don't tell me," the next Doctor cut in before the current Doctor could say his nickname. He looked up thoughtfully, putting a hand on his head, just below his mass of curly brown hair, in an overdramatic pose of deep concentration. "Scarf," he said eventually. "No, far too simple. The names seem to be based around our looks and personalities."

"You were close with scarf," the Doctor said.

"Hat? Coat? Trousers?"

"No I meant it is to do with the scarf."

"Oh I see," the 4th Doctor began to ponder dramatically once more.

The current Doctor turned to the rest of them. "You can all play along if you like."

"I bet I'm the professor," the 7th said. Wisps of greying hair curled out from under his cream hat, which matched the jacket he was wearing.

The one with short cropped hair and wearing a leather jacket, two seats down, turned to him in annoyance. "Oi, wait your turn!" He exclaimed in his northern accent.

"What do you mean, wait my turn?" Seven said. "I didn't hear him say that there was a specific order."

"Well one would assume it would be easiest to go in number order," clown said. "But how am I supposed to join in, you've already told me my nickname."

"He's revealed mine too, but you don't hear me complaining," Dandy tutted. "Even if I dislike it," he added quietly.

"Yes well you always were a bit of a killjoy," Clown muttered.

"Hey I enjoy a good game as much as anyone!"

"Gentlemen," First cut in before a full scale argument could break out, "there are pens and paper in front of you, should you like to join in."

There was a scramble as each man grabbed for a piece of paper and a pen. Several arguments broke out as one would discover that another had already grabbed the particular pen that he had been aiming for.

"Now look what you've done," the 4th Doctor exclaimed, holding up a torn piece of paper.

"Well I saw it first," the 7th retorted, holding up the other half.

The Doctor smirked at this display. They were all being very childish, but there was really no point in being grown up if you couldn't be childish sometimes. The only ones that did not get involved were First and Previous, they just calmly took the ones nearest and waited patiently for the ones with younger bodies to calm down.

"Bear in mind that one, two, three and..." He counted round the circle until he got to the relevant man. "And seven have already had their nicknames revealed."

"So I am the professor," seven cried in triumph. "Does that mean I get a bonus point?"

"Not really in the spirit of fair play now is it?" Previous growled. Professor decided not to press the issue.

"Ok is everyone ready?" The Doctor asked cheerfully. Everyone nodded. "Very well, begin." All head bowed as they began to write down the answers. They stopped and looked up to stare at the Doctor when he started to hum the theme tune to countdown.

* * *

><p>The Doctor still had not moved, he was completely rigid like he had been in Dorothy's shuttle. Broxa prodded him slightly but he made no response. She shrugged and wandered back over to the window, a new ship was just traversing through the surrounding asteroid field. It was one of the black cylindrical Judoon ships no doubt bringing in the rest of the leaders to admire their new acquisition. Or perhaps the correct word should be leader, Broxa didn't know whether Xanus had informed the others of his take over.<p>

"That'll be Shadon," a voice beside her said. She turned in the direction of the voice but no one was there, she twisted her head back and forth around the room but could not find the owner. "Down here."

She looked down and found the blue features of Colsok looking back up at her. "Oh, sorry," she apologised, "I'm not used to people being shorter than me."

The Groske (or perhaps he was a Graske, nobody is really sure anymore) shrugged. "That sort of thing happens to me all the time," he said, he rolled a circular device that looked like a bracelet between his hands. "This is the control to all of Sundew's defences," he explained. "They are currently inactive, but with the press of one little button I could switch them back on. No one would really care, Shadon has always been a massive pain in the arse, and they wouldn't be able to prove anything; who's to say that this is the only control to the defences, and who says we've caught everyone."

Broxa pondered on this suggestion for a moment, it was very tempting. "But you aren't going to do that," she said grudgingly.

"As tempting as it is, no," Colsok nodded.

Broxa grinned mischievously, an idea suddenly occurring to her. "I don't suppose you could pretend that the system is still active could you?" She suggested. "Make some of the asteroids drift towards them a little bit, or make a few random ones explode."

"You mean play a little trick on them," Colsok grinned. "Give them a little fright." She nodded. He tapped the side of his head knowingly. "Your an evil little bitch aren't you."

"Thank you," she said with a smile but frowned when she added: "I think."

"It's a very tempting idea," Colsok continued, rolling the control between his hands absent-mindedly. "Probably best not to though. I don't know how to control them that well and no matter how much simpler life would be without him that doesn't justify murder."

"Doesn't it?" Broxa said, and Colsok wasn't sure whether sure whether she was joking or not.

"And Xanus will be in there," he added, "and we wouldn't want anything to happen to him."

She had to agree with this point. There was a moment of silence during which the Shadow Proclamation ship disappeared from view. "Can I ask you something?" Broxa said after a while.

"You just did."

She gave him a look of annoyance and proceeded to ask anyway. "Do you have any idea what that is?" She pointed to the scar, birthmark or whatever it was, on her cheek. "The Doctor gave the impression that it was not a good thing, but he is unlikely to ever tell me what the concern is. Do you have any idea what it could be?"

Colsok squinted at the pale, scaly patch of skin. "I am not an expert on things human... or whatever you are," he added when she pointed out that she wasn't actually human. "But it does look like some sort of passive hereditary disease." In response to her blank look he explained. "It is passed down from your ancestors, only affecting you. Did your mother die in childbirth per chance?"

She shrugged. "I never knew my parents, either of them."

"May be nothing," the Groske shrugged, "but could mean everything. It looks like one of those illnesses that kill the mother and leave the child horribly crippled or malformed for life; which could be very short. But it is only in a small area. Where are you from exactly?"

"Mondas."

"Oh yes," Colsok nodded. "The home of the Cybermen."

"I gather they became quite famous," she said levelly.

"So you are the only one to remind us of what they were like before the ultimate upgrade," he continued.

"Well actually Olljo's from Mondas too," she said.

"Who?"

"Sundew's Quartermaster," she explained.

"Oh well that's a good thing isn't it," Colsok said cheerfully. "You needn't die out after all."

Broxa gave him a look of complete bewilderment. "I don't follow... Oh that's disgusting!"

"What?"

"The first thing you think when you discover there are two of us is that we should get together and preserve our species!" She shouted.

"Is that a problem?" Colsok questioned, unsure why this suggestion was upsetting her so much.

"No," she yelled. "Just no!" The Groske looked down and apologised meekly. "He's got a life of his own now, just like me, and has chosen to fly off on some luxury cruise across the stars. He's almost certainly left by now."

"And you didn't go with him?"

"No, I travel with the Doctor now," she jerked a thumb at the Doctor's dormant form. "Though he needs to wake up very soon or I may just decide to cut my losses and just eat him now," she added loudly.

"Eat him?" Colsok questioned, baffled himself by now.

"Oh did you not know?" She smiled sweetly. "I'm a cannibal."

* * *

><p>"Woolly!" the 4th Doctor exclaimed. "Now that is clever, well done."<p>

They all trailed off as a loud female voice drifted through the room, they looked at one another in confusion before slowly turning their eyes on the current Doctor with varying degrees of amusement.

The Doctor coughed nervously. "She doesn't mean it. Moving on," he said, "five, you were all right to assume that it was cricket related."

"Doesn't that hint at the high risk you have put yourself under?" Previous questioned, referring to the voice that they had all heard.

"Woolly had Leela didn't he," the Doctor justified, "and she wasn't being serious, that was a deliberate dig at me for being here too long."

"To be fair," Woolly said, "a savage and a cannibal are slightly different."

"You're not all seriously trying to tell me who I can and cannot take with me in the TARDIS," the Doctor complained. "Considering some of the riff-raff you have all agreed to take."

He was extremely satisfied by the outcry that followed this remark. He returned to the quiz with a cheeky grin. "Only one person got this right, though I have half a mind to discount it due to him being told last time I was here. I'm not going to, don't worry. It wasn't Beamer, Bouncer, Yorker or Ducky."

The 5th Doctor suddenly sat bolt upright in his seat. "Who said that?" he exclaimed.

The more childish incarnations looked at one another and was surprised to find that it was none of them. The Doctor kept his gaze fixed on the culprit the entire time, eventually the others followed his gaze.

"You?" Clown said in surprise.

"Well I'm allowed to be silly occasionally aren't I?" the 6th Doctor said.

"Quite," the Doctor agreed. "The answer was actually Googly." There was a collective groan of annoyance, especially from the 5th Doctor himself. "So what did you put down for yourself?" the Doctor asked the 6th.

"Modest," he replied. "I was going along the lines of irony, like with five."

"Clever thinking," the Doctor said thoughtfully, "completely wrong but clever nonetheless. The answer also was not: Smug Git."

"What!" Six exploded, whilst most others tried not to laugh. "Who said that?"

The Doctor turned to his right. "Well don't look at me," Previous exclaimed, "I didn't write that."

"I know, you're the only one who didn't," the Doctor said simply. The 6th Doctor went a deep shade of purple as the Doctor explained that the answer was in fact Coats and confirmed that Seven was Professor. "Now Eight was more tricky even if I do say so myself," he went on.

"Smug Git?" Coats repeated angrily.

"No it wasn't that, I have chosen to stick with Paradox until I can come up with a better one," he paused and added: "So no doubt I will stick with that."

"I assume that this is down to my constant slipping into parallel universes," the 8th Doctor (Paradox) suggested.

"And the fact you travelled back down your own personal time line in order to defeat the Master when he tried to steal your body... again," the Doctor added. He moved onto the next Doctor. "Ah, the Soldier. Born in the heart of the Last Great Time War, the one who chose to end it but spent the rest of his life regretting it."

"So not Big Ears then?" Soldier asked.

"No, none of them are insults."

"Smug Git?"

"You call me the Dandy."

"That's not an insult!"

"Smug Git?"

"Who am I then?"

"You're the 10th Doctor," the Doctor replied.

"Yes, I know that, but what is your nickname for me?" Ten clarified.

"Liberto," the Doctor replied.

"As in the Italian for freedman?" Clown questioned.

"Smug Git?"

"Yes that's right. In comparison to the Soldier who was constantly tormented by his actions to end the Last Great Time War, Liberto here was a free spirit mostly untroubled by the war."

"Well no wonder I didn't get that one," Clown muttered.

"Seems slightly unfair to have one in Italian when all the others are in English," Woolly added.

"Dandy almost got it," the Doctor justified. The two Doctors either side of the Dandy looked at him in surprise. "You really should have known I would be more imaginative than simply Ten in Italian, though."

"Smug Git?"

"Why did it have to be in Italian at all?" Professor wondered.

"I suppose the real question should be why did he choose the rest of you to be in English," Liberto pointed out. "Why didn't he decide to give us all Italian names, in fact why are we all speaking English? We could speak Italian if we all wanted to, such a more interesting language don't you think, Molto Bene!"

"Not really," Previous grumbled.

"Smug Git?"

"Moving on to number eleven," the Doctor said, ignoring Coats once again. "Dude."

"Dude?"

"Name me one item of clothing you wore, or an action you took part in, that you didn't instantly describe as cool," the Doctor challenged. Dude found that he could not.

"Smug Git?"

"Shut up Coats!" all the other Doctors chorused.

"And you all got Previous right," the Doctor continued. "So that all means that the overall winner was Dandy."

"But that isn't fair," Clown exclaimed. "He knew two of the answers in advance."

"He won by three actually," the Doctor said. Before Clown and Dandy could descend into bickering once more he moved on. "So why did none of you tell me that Xkitor was back?"

"Well we didn't know either," Googly answered. "We are members of your sub-consciousness, we only know things that you already know yourself."

"We only found that out the instant you found out," Professor added.

The Doctor sighed and put his hand on his forehead. "But why now, he could have returned so many times before, why has he chosen to come back now?"

"Isn't it obvious Thirteen?" Previous said. "You are the last of the Doctors. When you die the Doctor and Time Lords die with you."

"It is a sign that Xkitor was never as asleep as I thought at the time," First added. "He must have been plotting and biding his time. Waiting for the perfect moment to take his revenge on me."

"And rather than coming for me when I was in an older, weakened or human body," he directed this last example at Liberto, "he waits until I am in a young strong body and sends a bunch of assassins who follow the script too well to be anything other than a slight irritation. And who was it that said 'full circle' to me? what does that even mean?"

"Think about Lisa," Paradox said. "Think about her death."

"I'd rather not thank you," the Doctor replied, but did as he was told. It was painful, heart-rending and accompanied by a brilliant, but forever ruined, song. He struggled to see the significance but then it hit him. Each Doctor cried out in pain and rubbed their forehead, remarking on how Broxa seemed to be getting impatient. "Lisa was killed by Harry," the Doctor said once they had all sufficiently recovered, "and when she first met me, I was on the trail of Harry. Her first enemy was Harry and after defeating him he returned to kill her in turn. It was a full circle."

"The Thull circle in fact," First clarified. "The Thoruxan belief that the beetle that you crush will be reborn as the driver of the hovercart who runs you down a few years down the line. If you get one over your enemy he will always repay you in kind eventually. Treat a man badly and he will treat you badly in return. The circle always turns fully, or Thully as they say."

"So I'm going to die then," the Doctor said simply. "Xkitor is going to kill me, great."

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that," Dude scoffed. "You've beaten prophesised deaths before."

"Fixed points are one thing, but nothing has beaten the Thull circle."

"We are trapped in a vicious circle," Coats remarked. "On one hand should you arrive at Thoruxa Medio it is highly likely that you will be killed, yet if you don't go to Thoruxa Medio then Xkitor will undoubtedly escape and rain his vengeance on the entire universe."

"And in doing so probably kill me. No rest for the wicked," the Doctor remarked. He stood up and made for a random door.

"What are you going to do?"

He paused at the door. "You're all figments of my imagination, you all know everything that I know including all the things that I have forgotten that I know," he said casually. "You know exactly what I'm going to do." And he walked through the door.

* * *

><p>His eyes flicked open and he was instantly lifted up by his collar and held up against the wall. He was held face to face with the eerily vampire like pale, red-eyed face of Alkrad who had obviously drunk enough Albino blood to change his appearance.<p>

"Why didn't you tell me!" Alkrad snarled. "Why?"

The Doctor looked for Broxa for help but she was just standing there, clearly interested in what he had to say herself. "What have I done this time?" he asked with a sigh.

"It's not what you've done, it's what you haven't done," Alkrad growled with a pained expression in his eyes.

"Ah," the Doctor realised, "Lisa. Look I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't."

"You couldn't!" Alkrad screamed. "What about me! Surely I deserved to be told!"

"I cared about her too you know!" the Doctor shouted back, finally losing his temper. Alkrad let go and shrank back in shock and sudden fear. The Doctor was surprised himself, he took a few deep breaths and he was calm once more. "She was like a daughter to me," he said sadly.

"There he is!" the voice at the door made everyone's heads whip round. Shadon marched in flanked by several Judoon and Ogrons. The Albino pointed directly at Alkrad. "Arrest him!" he ordered.

Alkrad looked at the Doctor with a look of torment. "This isn't over, Doctor," he said and slapped his palm onto his opposite wrist. He promptly disappeared.

Shadon howled in frustration. "This is all your fault!" He pointed an accusing finger at the Doctor.

"How can it be my fault?" The Doctor asked.

"You were the one to release him from the base, give him new clothes and supply him with a vortex manipulator," Shadon listed.

"Comet, he was still wearing Soldier's jacket wasn't he," the Doctor realised. "The thief! You had better get after him quickly."

Shadon looked at his Judoon colleagues. "What is the penalty for aiding a known criminal? Execution?"

"Probably," the Doctor agreed. "But I think in the circumstances that the charges will be dropped."

"You overestimate your importance."

"Do you even know what I did?" The Doctor queried. "No that doesn't matter, you no longer have the power to carry out that sort of threat." Shadon responded with a completely blank look. "Have they not told you? The council is being dissolved in favour of Xanus taking up the role of the Shadow Architect."

"It's true," Colsok supplied. "Kabrok and I have already agreed to back him. Oowook is dead so even if you did get Reljax to back you, and that is extremely unlikely, you are outvoted."

"But you can't do this to me!" The Albino exploded. "It is my birthright! I should be the Architect!"

"Get over yourself," Broxa butted in. "Xanus will make a much better leader than you ever will."

"What do you know about it? You're just a snivelling little human," Shadon said snidely.

The Doctor quickly grabbed hold of Broxa's shoulders. Even with his size advantage she was surprisingly difficult to hold back, eventually he was able to calm her enough to be able to twist her round and march her out of the room. "We would love to stay and chat but we must get on our way," he said hurriedly. "Places to see, people to meet, songs to sing. So I say thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing, thanks for all the joy their bringing. Who could live without it? I ask in all honesty, what would life be without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say thank you for the music, for giving it to me."

Shadon did order his guards to stop him from leaving, but they were suddenly reluctant to follow his orders. So the Doctor once again simply walked out without anyone making any attempt to stop him.

"You don't have to come with me you know," the Doctor said as they walked down the corridor.

"What do you mean?" Broxa questioned, twisting her head round to face him.

"The place we're going will be dangerous," he said.

"So what? When is it not?"

"I haven't finished. I have to go and find my very first enemy, and prevent him from trying to take over the universe again," he said. "And there is a high chance that I will not survive this encounter."

"That's very negative thinking," she observed.

The Doctor sighed. How was he going to explain that it was different this time. "It just wouldn't be fair to force you to join me when we are going to be entering a world of such peril. It's one thing me throwing my life away, but it's a totally different thing asking you to do the same."

"Well I don't care," Broxa said matter-of-factly. "I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."

On the one hand the Doctor was glad. He did not want to have to face death on his own and it would be very nice to have someone at his side for when the time came. But, on the other hand, this could lead to her death as well and that was not a comforting thought. There was nothing that could do though, she was going to come regardless, and he did not have the motivation to refuse her outright. He was going to face Xkitor, and possibly his death, but at least he wouldn't be alone.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: before I get hounded with reviews telling me that: I got it wrong, I know nothing about Doctor Who, Eight regenerated after the Time War not during it! Let me ask you this: where in canon does it specifically say when and how the 8<strong>**th**** Doctor regenerated? The answer is nowhere, we are left to guess when and how it happened, there are a lot of good reasons to support Eight dying at the end rather than during the war, but who is to say that he didn't get injured in a battle towards the end of the war and after the subsequent regeneration decides he has had enough of it and sets out to put a stop to it, discovers what the Time Lords are going to do and then decides to kill them all rather than try to end it peacefully. **

**There are indeed suggestions that he had only just regenerated in Rose but they were in the middle of a war, there isn't much time to stop to look in a mirror to see what you look like; there could have been many Time Lords who went through several different regenerations but never got a chance to know any of them, looks aren't that important when you are fighting for your life. Ten also says that Nine was 'born from war. Now this could support the widely held belief that Eight regenerates after the war: he was born with the effects of the war still ringing in his ears, or it could mean he was born as a result of the war i.e. the war caused him to regenerate (whether it was at the beginning, middle or end).**

**I am not saying that all those of you who think that Eight regenerated as a result of using the moment or in an attempt to move on after the end of the war (though if that was the case I would have thought he would be more like ten: having to dig deep to discover regret over the war as opposed to being moody all the time) are wrong, this is just my opinion I think it works better if the 8****th**** Doctor regenerated due to getting injured in a battle towards the end of the war, sometimes things just have to remain mysterious (which is why they should never do anything set in the Time War) because it allows people to have different interpretations. Ok rant over.**

* * *

><p><strong>Up next: Part Seven, First Evil<strong>

**In which the Doctor returns to the planet of his first ever adventure to meet his first ever enemy who has the power of inevitability on his side, but first he has to put a stop to one of the more sinister elements of the Thoruxan community: the Commune of True Thoruxans, a racist organisation that believes that Broxa is proof that the oppressed Salazars have been spreading their evil even on other planets, justifying their call for genocide.  
><strong>


	40. First Evil

**Part Seven: First Evil**

* * *

><p><em>[flashback]<em>

The two strangers to the world sprinted down the centre of the street, diving to the sides when a hovercart reminded them of the inherent danger. They came to a cross-road and paused, Theta frantically dancing about between the separate paths.

"How in meteor are we supposed to find it?" he exclaimed. "Even if we do go down the right path. You have to wonder about the wisdom involved when they decided to give them camouflage systems."

"Chameleon circuit, Theta," his female friend corrected.

"Who cares what it's called," he retorted. "It's still a flawed idea."

"If you shut up I might be able to find it," she said through gritted teeth. Theta threw up his arms in exasperation but said no more. She brought her first two fingers up to her temple and frowned in deep concentration. To an onlooker it probably looked as if she had a severe migraine, but most onlookers did not know her species.

She and Theta were of course Time Lords from the planet Gallifrey and as such were psychic. Not all Time Lords were gifted in this ability, in the same way not all humans make gifted sportsmen, Theta for example was poor compared to many others whereas his female friend was quite good. She was currently scanning the area with her mind, probing for the tell tale psychic singing of the Time Capsule that they had stolen.

There it was. "That way," she pointed. Theta did not hesitate and immediately began sprinting down the appropriate path.

"Here it is," Theta cried in delight when they came into the correct street, even he could sense it from this distance. He came to a stop in front of a large metal pole with a huge rectangular base, almost big enough for a man to fit inside, the Thoruxan equivalent of a lamp post. Theta brandished a key from his torn orange robes and slotted it into the keyhole. He twisted it frantically but the lock would not fit.

"Oh stars, we're doomed!" He cried. "The key isn't working!"

"Well that's because you are trying to open a lamp post," his friend replied. "This is the Time Capsule." She indicated an identical looking lamp post that she was stood next to.

"Now this is why this whole camouflage idea is flawed," he said, tossing the key over.

"Yeah, I hear they're working on a circuit that allows the user to change the appearance of the capsule manually," she said as she put the key in the lock and unlocked the lamp post without any trouble.

"Yes, that would be a lot better actually," Theta muttered.

"So what do you need in there exactly?" She asked. "Did you smuggle in some weapons that I didn't know about?"

"Of course not," Theta scoffed. "You know me."

"What are we doing back here then?" She asked in confusion.

"We're getting out of here of course," he answered and made for the open door.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she exclaimed, holding up her arm to bar his way. "You're just going to leave."

"No, we're going to leave," he corrected. "We are out of our depth, we never should have come here."

"That doesn't mean we should leave."

"This is Rassilon's curse, that's what it is," he moaned. "The first place we visit and there is this horrible creature hell bent on destruction. No we should return to Gallifrey this instant."

"Hey it was your idea," she exclaimed. "You were the one who came to me telling me that you were going to steal a redundant Time Capsule and were going off to see the universe. I was perfectly happy to stay yet you persuaded me to come, so don't get all God-fearing now. And how do you plan to get back to Gallifrey exactly? You can't drive one even if your life depended on it."

"Our lives do depend on it," he pointed out. "And I was hoping you would drive actually."

"I'm not leaving here," she pouted. "The natives need our help."

"And Xkitor will kill us too," Theta replied. "Regardless of what we do he will still come out victorious and the Thoruxans and the Salazars shall both bow down to worship him. That is how Rassilon came to power originally and how countless others came to power all over the universe. Why should it be any different here? Who are we to decide who should and who shouldn't rule this world."

"But thousands of people will die," she pleaded.

"Regrettably yes," Theta nodded solemnly. "But it would be pointless to allow ourselves to die as well trying to halt the inevitable."

She decided to change tactics. "Xkitor doesn't strike me as the sort of person who would rule benevolently."

"Not anything we can do about that."

"He's insane!" She screamed. There was an explosion a few streets away.

"They're getting closer," Theta said. "We need to go, now!"

"I don't want to go," she exclaimed. "We need to stay and do something."

"Alright then, stay here," Theta shrugged. "See if I care. Maybe after a couple of face-lifts you will become a more practical person."

"What happened to: we should conserve our regenerations?" She questioned haughtily.

"I wash my hands of you," he replied, blatantly ignoring the previous comment. "I shall wait precisely 1 hour, and if you haven't returned by then I am leaving."

Before she could reply he had marched into the Time Capsule through the small door and had slammed it shut. She stared at the door sadly and absentmindedly placed a palm on her chest. She had wanted to tell him earlier, but the Spawn of Xkitor had attacked before she had had a chance to tell him; and this did not seem to be the best time either. But she had to tell him.

She sighed and rapped her knuckles on the metal door. "Theta," she called, "I need to tell you something."

After a few seconds of silence the door opened again, Theta looked out expectantly. "I'm pregnant," she said.

Theta blinked in surprise. "What?"

"I'm pregnant," she repeated. "I've only just realised myself and was about to tell you when those Spawns over ran the encampment. Just so that you know." And with that she turned and walked off leaving Theta with his thoughts.

He watched her walk off with great sadness. Theta had been a terrible student to say the least, he was always so distracted by other things that were going on. He had failed Time Capsule engineering, and the joint Capsule Pilot test that went with it, and he had failed history of Gallifrey as well; who cared which President had amended the Time Lord code for the 76th time? He had almost failed Constitutional Studies as well, and no one failed Constitutional Studies. Only his extra tuition with Borusa had allowed him to pass. Just. Article seventeen had always caused him the most trouble, but thanks to Borusa it was unlikely he would ever forget it; even though it was now completely useless information. Most other subjects he had also passed with this grade of Theta Sigma, the lowest pass mark, which was where his nickname had originated.

This did not mean he was stupid though, he had a huge wealth of knowledge inside his head, the problem was that all the things that he felt were worth knowing you didn't need to pass any exams and all things that you needed for the exams were boring; to distract from this though he would insist that it took great skill to always pass with that grade every single time. One of these facts that he had learnt was that pregnant Time Ladies could not regenerate; a regeneration causes a complete change in the entire cell structure of the individual healing any damage and ruthlessly destroying any foreign bodies (normally bacteria) adversely affecting them from the inside, and by extension an unborn foetus as it is technically a foreign body so regeneration naturally suspended itself in the result of pregnancy.

So Theta knew that his friend was effectively walking to her death. Had she not been pregnant she would get grievously wounded, promptly regenerate and be ok, but as it was she would get grievously wounded and later die painfully of her wounds.

"How?" He called after her. "We only did it once."

"Just one of those things," she shrugged. She heard the sound of the Time capsule door being closed and locked.

"I hope you have some sort of plan," Theta said as he walked up beside her.

She quickly suppressed her smile as she turned to him. "You were always the ideas man," she said. "You come up with the plan."

"Well I don't know," he said in exasperation. "There's thousands of them and we are not fighters."

"There must be some weakness," she said more calmly. "Some way to take out several at a time."

"On this planet, unlikely," he said bitterly. Suddenly a thought struck him. "Xkitor!"

"What?" She twisted her head towards him, sensing the sudden change in attitude. "Spit it out."

"In the temple," he said, "those Spawn wouldn't follow us beyond that archway would they."

"Yes," she agreed. "I thought that that was odd. What are you saying?"

"I think that the Spawn are more intrinsically linked to Xkitor than he led us to believe," he explained. "Maybe they cannot survive without him, if they stray too far from him they lose some kind of signal and die."

"So your suggesting that we destroy Xkitor? Yeah that'll be easy," she said sarcastically.

"No I'm not saying we have to destroy him, I'm saying that we need to block the signal that he is giving off."

She looked at him and nodded, suitably impressed. "We had better get on with it then."

_[end of flashback]_

* * *

><p>The Doctor hadn't thought about that moment for millennia, and now he was slightly guilty about that fact. There had been so many people that had travelled with him over the years that you would have thought that this was not unusual, you struggle to move on by dwelling too much in the past. But she was the mother of his child, the woman he had run away with, surely if he was going to remember anyone it would be her. Except that he hadn't really loved her that much, so as time passed by she slowly faded into obscurity.<p>

"You're very quiet," Broxa observed.

"I was just experiencing a flashback," he said, coming to his senses. "An ancient memory of when I last went to Thoruxa Medio." He pressed a few buttons and skipped around to the opposite side of the console so he could pull a lever. "My first ever adventure in the TARDIS," he added dreamily.

"And you never went back?"

"Well I don't generally visit anywhere more than once," he explained. "There are a few that I have returned to but that's normally only for special occasions."

"What about Earth?" Broxa asked, knowing full well that he had an attachment to Earth.

"Earth is different," he said. He spun the wheel and slammed down a lever in an air of finality. The TARDIS juddered and shook and the console room began to shimmer. They both grabbed hold of the console as the trademark grating sound echoed through room. Ever so slowly the room began to stabilise and the time rotor came to a standstill.

"We have arrived," the Doctor said levelly, for once not excited by the prospect of a new planet.

"Don't leave any items unattended right?" Broxa added.

He nodded and smiled. "Yeah, that's right." At least he wasn't alone in all this. He straightened up and strode towards the door and froze at what he saw.

Broxa came up beside him and squinted at the door, very confused herself. "What's happened to the... What do you call it?"

"Door," the Doctor supplied.

"Thanks, what's happened to the door?" She asked.

Normally the inside of the TARDIS door matched up perfectly with that of the outside so in this case was like that of a 1960's police box. Except it wasn't anymore, the white wooden doors with the 60's phone jutting out of one side were gone. In its place was a smaller, not really suitable for anyone human sized, grey, metal doorway; not dissimilar to the inside of the door into a control terminal. It was not perfect, there were several brown patches of rust, giving it a sense of authenticity.

The Doctor turned on his heels and sprinted back to the console. "What are you playing at?" He exclaimed. "It hasn't worked for millennia, why has it started to work again now?" He returned to the console and began to fiddle with the controls once more.

"What's going on?" Broxa questioned.

"The chameleon circuit," the Doctor explained. "It's a sort of camouflage system that disguises the TARDIS whenever it lands on a planet. Originally the TARDIS would scan the surroundings and the time zone to select the best object and take on that shape just before landing. I left her on Earth for too long though and the system jammed, at least I think that's why it broke, so she has been stuck as a police box for nearly all my lives. I have been completely unsuccessful with any attempts to fix it. No that's not strictly true, I got it half working at one point, but I get the feeling she was probably mocking me because an organ isn't really much of a disguise. I even tried bypassing the automatic system altogether by upgrading it to allow for manual control, yet even that immediately resets to the police box every time I try changing it.

"In short the she has been stuck in the shape of a police box since the beginning of First's golden years yet for some reason has decided to fix herself now," he summed up.

The screen came to life, showing an episode of Neighbours. The Doctor sighed deeply and pressed a few more buttons causing the image on the screen to change.

"Typical, a system that has never worked suddenly comes back to life and a component that has never caused me any trouble decides to play up," he muttered. "And you're not tempting me, there will be no singing today, none at all." The image on the screen continued regardless and eventually the Doctor gave into the temptation. "Bob the builder, can we fix it? Bob the builder. No! We don't have time for this," he kicked the console violently and the screen changed once more causing the music to cut out. "Ah, that's better."

The image on the screen now showed a 3D image of an object with a large rectangular base with a long pole that stuck up out of the middle with a sphere on top of that. "That's what the TARDIS looks like now," the Doctor said.

"What is it?" Broxa asked.

"A lamp post," the Doctor replied, "or the Thoruxan equivalent at least. They light up the streets at night." A thought suddenly dawned on him. "This wouldn't be the exact same disguise that you wore when we last came to Thoruxa Medio is it?"

"How should I kn-"

"I wasn't talking to you," he interrupted, though not unkindly. "You have, haven't you. Why?"

The TARDIS made no response, as usual, so the Doctor simply shrugged wandered over to the door. He took a deep breath before opening it and stepping through.

* * *

><p>"Hey Johan," the fat man in blue said to his friend who wore yellow, "I didn't realise there were still some of those old 40s light sticks still knocking about."<p>

"Neither did I," Johan shrugged. "I assumed they had all been scrapped but that obviously isn't true."

"It will probably be gone soon though," his friend continued. "The Commune doesn't really like anything that reminds us of the past."

"But it looks like it is the only light stick in the area," Johan pointed out, "they may hate the past but they won't get rid of something that is doing an important job will they?"

The fat man looked it up and down. "But it's all covered in rust."

"I doubt that rust affects a light sticks performance," Johan shrugged. "Even on an old 40s light stick."

It was at that moment that the door into the base of the light stick opened up to allow an eccentrically dressed man to stagger out. The Doctor straightened up clutching his lower back with one hand and straightened his hat with the other. He grimaced and looked the light stick up and down. "Why," he said simply.

The two natives looked at one another in confusion, how was it possible that there could have been a man hiding inside there? The whole situation became even more improbable by Broxa's emergence from inside the 'light stick'. She straightened up without the discomfort that the Doctor had shown and joined him in looking at the new appearance the TARDIS had taken with interest.

The fat man took in the clothes that she was wearing and suddenly realised what was going on. "Ah," he said, "I don't think that the Commune are going to be destroying it in a hurry."

"What makes you say that?" Johan queried.

"Well the Commune do like their brothels," he explained.

The Doctor very suddenly realised that he and Broxa were not alone. "No, no, no," he exclaimed. "That is not what was going on in there."

"No of course not," the fat man winked. "Your secret is safe with us." And with that the natives disappeared on their business, Johan's gaze lingering on Broxa for a moment before he followed his friend.

The Doctor would have shouted after them but he decided against it as it was unlikely it would have made any difference. "I am beginning to wish I was still old," he muttered.

"What is a brothel?" Broxa asked.

"Errm, well it's a building that a lot of women live in," the Doctor floundered, "who get paid by men to... well, you know, satisfy certain urges that the man might have."

"Doesn't sound that bad," Broxa said, completely failing to understand.

"Oh stars," the Doctor put his face in his palm. "Do you know what sex is?"

"Of course I do."

"Well the men pay the women for that," the Doctor summed up. He was slightly surprised that Broxa was completely unfazed by this revelation but decided not to make an issue of it. He stared at the TARDIS one last time before making of in a random direction, not bothering to check that Broxa was following him.

They soon came onto a street that was bustling with activity. Market stalls on either side of the street with the owners crying out their wares to the many potential shoppers. A hovercart hovered slowly down the centre of the street, sounding their klaxons yet struggling to make their way through the throng of people. Things had certainly changed a lot since the Doctor had last been here, or maybe he had not been in the right place to see a proper market day.

"It's amazing the number of planets that partake in such an activity," the Doctor mused.

"What is it?" Broxa questioned.

"Must be market day," he replied.

"And what is that?" she asked.

"Oh," the Doctor had forgotten that Broxa will never have come across such an activity. "It's a day when people decide to meet up to trade objects with one another," he explained.

"You mean a bit like that strange ritual you did with that taxi driver," she remembered.

"Similar," the Doctor nodded, "but not exactly the same. Now the good thing about markets are that they are full of people with vast local knowledge. A good place to start."

The strode purposefully through the crowd easily carving a path through; much to the irritation of the hovercart driver who had now been stuck for hours. He stopped in front of a group of men and smiled in a friendly manner.

"Hello," he said. "Nice day for it."

"Yesterday was nicer actually," one of the men said. A second agreed that it had been warmer on the previous day.

"Ok, let's just assume I am a complete idiot who doesn't even know what year this is," the Doctor said, "just to speed things up a bit."

"We understand," the third man said.

"You do?"

"Yes, most tourists don't bother to learn what year it is either, though you are doing well to have picked up our language so quickly," the first man explained.

"Wow," the Doctor had not been expecting this. "Is it that obvious?" he asked, playing along with their assumption.

"You are colourless," the third man pointed out.

"Oh right," the Doctor looked around and was suddenly very self conscious about the fact that everyone else had dark skin, he stood out even more than usual. Broxa was probably feeling it too so he turned to offer her reassurance but discovered that she was no longer there. She must have gone exploring he decided after a quick glance up and down the street didn't locate her, it was very annoying when his companions chose to do this; but to be fair he hadn't specifically told her not to like with other companions who wandered off anyway.

"So," he said, turning back to the men. "Have you heard anything recent about the great Xkitor?"

The three men sighed deeply. "This isn't about apocalypse insurance is it?"

"Apocalypse insurance?" the Doctor questioned.

"You're the third man this week who has come along claiming that Xkitor is going to rise up from his slumber to rain fire down on Thoruxa Medio," one of the locals said, "and that we should claim on the apocalypse insurance now so that when it is all over we can rebuild our world. As if we would ever believe that Xkitor was real."

"You don't think that Xkitor is real?" the Doctor exclaimed. "Xkitor, father of the Spawn who tried to overrun the planet and you don't believe he exists."

"A mere legend," the second man shrugged, "no more."

"It was just an earthquake," the first agreed.

"An earthquake?"

"Yes, it's when the ground shakes causing buildings to collapse."

"I know what it is."

"Sorry, we were assuming that you were stupid, like you asked us." The other two men laughed at this.

The Doctor allowed the natives to laugh at their little joke before continuing. "Is this what everyone thinks?" he asked.

"Everyone knows about the Xkitor legend," the first man said. "I don't know of anyone who believes it to be true though."

The Doctor held up his arms in exasperation. "I suppose you are going to tell me there is no temple as well," he said.

"Of course there's a temple, people used to believe in this stuff," the third man said. "Completely in ruins of course but it is still there."

"Good," the Doctor nodded, glad that he was finally getting somewhere. "Which direction is it from here?"

The men pointed in the appropriate direction, he thanked them and set off. He did not notice watching him from across the street a man with the wrong coloured skin to be a native, his hair had a life of its own and his ears were slightly pointed. The most distinguishing feature were his goggles, they were designed to cover all three of his eyes. It was Triclops. The last assassin and the servant of Xkitor.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: in the flashback the female Time Lord (or Time Lady more accurately) mentions that she is pregnant and therefore cannot regenerate. I just wanted to point out that as far as I know this has appeared nowhere in canon and while it may turn be completely false actually makes a lot of sense. I cannot take any credit for coming up with it though, the brilliant inventor is Brownbug (in her story the Master's Rose) so we have her to thank for that little gem. All her stories have been brilliant so I suggest that you check them out.<br>**


	41. Evil 2

While the Doctor was having fun with the atheist locals Broxa had found herself drawn to one of the stalls. The owner of this particular stall was suave with slicked back hair and a neat little moustache. He was well practiced in the art of selling, such was his skill he could probably even have successfully flogged a dead horse. He smiled invitingly at Broxa, a slick, well practiced, welcoming smile and she wandered over to him.

"Beautiful woman," the salesman drawled, "I can see you have a great eye for beauty to choose to come over to humble Aziman's stall. It is truly a great honour to have such a beauty stand before me."

"What's all this here?" Broxa asked, blatantly ignoring his flattery.

"Blunt and to the point, I'm liking you more and more," Aziman said suavely. He held up a length of fabric in demonstration. "Finest casheek, perfect for making saris or head scarves. Feel how soft it is."

She obliged and recoiled in shock, it was like running your hands through spider silk. She frantically rubbed her hands to make the sensation go away.

Aziman frowned at this display. "Are you alright?" He asked.

She quickly brushed all memories of the Dynasty from her mind. "I'm fine," she said hurriedly, "just conjures up bad memories."

"Oh," he said uncertainly, "well they're not all like that. This is herminia, it's quite different to the casheek I think you'll find."

She was tempted, but she couldn't push the image that the casheek had conjured into her mind. "I'm sorry but I should get back-" she began but was cut off by a bag being thrown over her head.

She cried out in shock as several strong arms grabbed at her. But she was no pushover, twisting out of their grip and lashing out with her fists. There were a few satisfying crunches and cries of pain but there was only one of her and several of them; and they didn't have bags over their heads. It wasn't long before she was pinned to the ground with her arms and legs tightly bound together, yet still she struggled, thrashing about wildly, rubbing her face painfully against the scratchy fabric of the bag and screaming unrelentingly.

"What is this?" She heard Aziman say, followed by a harsher voice warning him to mind his own business.

"Help!" She screamed. Before she could repeat her cry there was a huge blow to the back of her head that drove her forehead into the ground. She grunted in pain before slowly losing consciousness. Her last thoughts being: "where was the Doctor when you really needed him?"

* * *

><p>The Doctor had been vaguely aware of a small scuffle behind him as he had argued with the atheist locals about the existence of Xkitor, but had dismissed it as a simple dispute over the price of goods; the owner of a cloth stall had certainly looked very rattled as he had walked past. He was now in a mostly empty street, wandering aimlessly for the streets all looked mostly the same and the directions he had been given were not very clear. He sighed deeply and leant backwards against the wall of a nearby house.<p>

It wasn't that he was tired, far from it, he was actually hoping to make contact with one of his previous selves; one of them would probably know the way to the temple. He was just closing his eyes when his legs were suddenly kicked out from under him causing him to plummet to the ground rather painfully.

"That is why you should never lean up against a wall like that," a voice from above him said. "Many of us are not as kind to strangers as I am."

The Doctor managed to place the voice and recognised him, standing above him, as the fat man he had encountered outside the TARDIS. He held out a hand which the Doctor gratefully accepted.

"Thank you very much for that life lesson," the Doctor said genuinely, "Mr..."

"Usahn," the man introduced himself. "This is also not the safest area to find yourself in, the Commune may not be able to stop any visitors from coming to the planet but that doesn't mean they take kindly to these people falling asleep against their houses."

"And I suppose they are completely fine with a man like you falling asleep against their houses," the Doctor replied with no small amount of sarcasm.

Usahn held up his hands defensively. "They are extreme xenophobes it would be adding insult to injury," he clarified. "Officially members of the Commune are completely secret so to outsiders like you could be anyone and anywhere."

"Even you," the Doctor added.

"Yes, very good sir, I can confirm a I am not a member though," he smiled. "Officially nobody knows who they are but when you have been around as long as I have you quickly learn who is one and who isn't from the way they act and their political views, and everyone knows that they like to skulk about in this area."

"When you say they are xenophobes is that exclusively towards outsiders or does that include certain communities on this planet?" The Doctor queried.

"They hate everything that breathes apart from fellow Thoruxans," Usahn confirmed. "It is their influence that has ensured the segregation and overall intolerance towards the Salazars."

"Yes, I wondered about them," the Doctor nodded. "I would have expected them to have fully integrated themselves in with your society, and by the sounds of it they are now even more separate than before. 20th century America all over again, I suppose that must make this Commune the Klu Klux Klan. Although they were originally called the Confederate Campaigners Club only changing their name after mix up with the costume designer; no hold on, that was just a comedy sketch. Anyway, correct me if I am wrong, but aren't you putting yourself at risk talking about them like this in an area where they are well known to congregate."

"Well I haven't actually said anything bad about them, I have merely been telling you about them," Usahn said. "It's not as if I have been going around saying: _they are sneaky and manipulative, altering how history is perceived and persecuting those who disagree with them or fraternising with the enemy; meaning the Salazars_."

The Doctor blinked. "You mean it is them that have made everyone forget that Xkitor ever existed!" He exclaimed.

"No, of course not! I never said anything about that I was just supposing!" Usahn shouted, but he winked to let the Doctor know that he was on the right track.

"They certainly sound very powerful."

"They influence most aspects of society," Usahn nodded, "which, considering they are merely a cult with no official political power at all, is quite frightening."

"Where do you fit into all this then?" The Doctor wondered. "A plot convenience! That's what you are! No, sorry I meant to say freedom fighter, why did I say that? Well I suppose the occasional slip of the tongue isn't that bad, I used to go off on a tangent, rambling on for hours and hours on subjects that half the time aren't even relevant in the slightest. I once went on a rant about Apple for no apparent reason, I don't suppose you know what that is, no of course not, you're a Thoruxan. Hey did you know that when the Beatles set up their own record label they named it Apple Corps. Apple Corps it's a pun do you see. Oh right you don't have apples here at all do you. Never mind."

"Yes that's exactly what I am," Usahn said uncertainly. "I think."

"Seems strange that someone like you would want to bring down an institution like this," the Doctor said, cunningly testing his allegiance to the cause. "You would have been brought up under it, unless I am completely misunderstanding how long they have been here."

"You are absolutely right," Usahn said. The Doctor waited for him to clarify but realised that he wasn't going to, not in an area where a member of the Commune could appear at any moment.

"Is there anywhere that we can talk in private?" He asked.

"It won't be true privacy," Usahn said. "But I do know somewhere safer than here."

The Doctor pointed down the street. "Lead on MacDuff."

"What?"

"Don't worry, it's an Earth expression, I'll be using them a lot... Do you enjoy music."

"Yes, I have a sitar back at home."

"Brilliant, super, smashing, twelve out of ten. I'm going to have lots of fun with you I can tell. If only Broxa hadn't decided to wander off on her own..."

* * *

><p>Broxa awoke to the sound of voices. They were already low so the extra muffling caused by the bag still being over her head made them completely unintelligible. She shifted about on the hard ground in an attempt to move into a more comfortable position; this was not easy with her hands tied behind her back and her ankles tied together but eventually she had managed to shift herself into a kneeling position.<p>

"Oi!" she shouted for attention. She noted that her shout had made to voices cease. There was the sound of heavy feet on the ground nearby and then the bag was ripped off her head. The material clung to her hair and scratched her skin painfully, but she gave no sign of feeling anything. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.

The dark skinned men, the Thoruxans, made no indication that they had even heard her, they just stared at her intently. "How is that even possible," one of them said eventually.

"Apparently the Salazars are not as subjugated as we thought," another, quite clearly the leader, said.

"Even so," the first man continued, "she's an outsider, how can they have possibly managed something like that?"

"I can here you," Broxa said, "so don't talk as if I am not in the room."

"They must have snuck aboard a transport at some point in the past," the leader said, continuing to act as if she were not there. "Spreading their plague across the stars. Who knows how many people like her are out there."

The members looked at one another in horror. "What do we do then?"

The leader turned to Broxa and addressed her for the first time. "Where do you come from?" he asked.

Broxa was taken aback by the sudden attention. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," she said hesitantly.

"You're from across the stars," the leader said, "we know that, what we want to know is your planet of origin."

Broxa looked from face to face, each one expectant and none sympathetic towards her plight in any way. "What is this all about?" She asked. "I haven't done anything to you, I was just minding my own... Oh what's that word?"

"We do not know what you have done," the leader. "But you will partake in great evil, because that is what you people do."

A realisation suddenly dawned on her. "Look, I'm nothing to do with the Cybermen, I may come from the same planet but I clearly haven't been converted in any way. I'm hardly going to follow any of their ideals, am I?"

"Who are the Cybermen?"

"You haven't heard of the Cybermen?" Broxa exclaimed.

"It is not because of where you come from or who you are affiliated," the leader sneered. "It is not even because of your gender or political views. It is because you are an abomination."

She frowned cocking her head towards the speaker in confusion. "I'm a what?"

"At some point in the past a Salazar left this world and came to yours," another of the men explained. "He then impregnated your mother, or possibly grandmother, so that you would come out as a loyal servant to them."

"Your father was a Salazar," the leader said in answer to another look of confusion from Broxa. "And you are a twisted half-breed as a result."

"No, that can't be true!"

"How do you explain that scale on your cheek then?" The leader questioned gleefully. Broxa's words caught in her throat, she had forgotten about that; the Doctor had yet to explain what it was so she couldn't answer.

"You are afflicted with the Salazar's Touch," the leader continued. "Proof of your heritage. All half-breeds bear it."

"No, you're wrong," she insisted, but she wasn't so sure this time. She had never known her parents, both of them having died when she was a small child. Could what these men were saying be true?

"What planet are you from?" The leader repeated.

She glared at him defiantly. "Mondas," she snarled. "Xessing Mondas alright! Now let me go!"

The men looked at one another questionably. "Do you know of a planet called Mondas?" One asked.

"Never heard of it," another agreed.

"It's a start," the leader said. "We can find it, and how the Salazars are getting there. Take her to the cells."

"What for!" Broxa shouted as she was picked up by her shoulders and dragged across the floor. "I haven't done anything!"

"You haven't been listening have you," the leader tutted mockingly. "You're an abomination, so it is our duty to keep you locked away."

"You're all mad," Broxa exclaimed, not bothering to wriggle about in a vain attempt to get free. "You're all xessing mad!"

"Your words mean nothing to us, we have heard them all before. Soon you will grow to appreciate what we are doing."

"Even if you don't," one of the others added, "you won't be going anywhere."

"You had better keep a close eye on me then," Broxa snarled. "Because if I get the opportunity to kill any one of you I will take it without hesitation. You have been warned."

* * *

><p>"Make love all day long, make love singing songs," the Doctor finished singing but continued the song with an elaborate sitar solo.<p>

Usahn finally lost patience. "So you wanted to know about the Commune?" He said, possibly too loudly.

"There's people standing round, who screw you in the ground."

"Doctor!"

The Doctor abruptly came to a halt looking slightly hurt. "Specifically why you are aspiring to bring them down," he replied as if nothing unusual had happened.

"It is hardly unusual," Usahn replied, "most people hate them. They inspire fear in everyone through their attempts to persecute the Salazars and those who are seen as helping them. They are also completely against history."

"Why?" The Doctor questioned. "I can understand why they would wish to persecute the Salazars, many cultures have people like that, but why would they want to destroy history as well?"

"One of the many mysteries," Usahn shrugged. "I am surprised that that old 40s light stick which you were in hasn't been destroyed."

"You mean that's an historic relic as well?" The Doctor exclaimed. "So it hasn't fixed itself, it is just deliberately taunting me. After everything we've been through together it turns on me just like that."

"You what?"

"Oh, never mind just rambling. So you decided to join the resistance simply because you knew it was the right thing to do. Someone has to stand up to them after all."

"There is that," Usahn agreed. "But most of us do have personal reasons for joining."

"You included?"

"The same as most of us," Usahn nodded. "I lost a family member to the Commune. I would argue that I lost my entire family."

"That doesn't sound good," the Doctor observed. "Would you like to share?"

"My sister, Alisandra, was born with the Salazar's Touch" Usahn said simply. "Things spiralled out of control from there. First my mother died, too weak from the birth of my sister. My father was later killed when the Commune came for her. It's funny really, he believed everything the Commune told us, I suspect he may even have been a member, but the instant that they turned on one of his own he was the first to stand up against them."

"Well that is nice to see," the Doctor commented, "a father looking out for his child like that. Makes me think of my father... I wonder ... would he have done that for me? But of course that just conjures up the old questions of_ who the hell was he? Was he brown, was he blue was he violet sky..._" he froze upon realising he was simply reciting the lyrics to Grace Kelly by Mika. He cleared his throat loudly. "What is the Salazar's touch exactly and why did it cause your sister to be taken?"

"It is a sign that the father of the child was a Salazar, or that's what they would have us believe anyway," Usahn explained. "The mother normally always dies so they cannot deny any involvement with any Salazars, the ones that do survive are far too weak to deny anything either. We, that is us freedom fighters, are not certain where it comes from but it is probably down to a deformity in the foetus caused by the mother's poor standard of living or a recessive gene. An affected child has what can only be described as scale covering the skin, with varying degrees of intensity; it is like the scales of a Salazar merged with our own skin."

"Scale?" The Doctor exclaimed. "What do you mean by poor standards of living?" He questioned urgently.

"Well no rich women have ever had children affected by it," Usahn shrugged. "I suppose I mean those poorer people who cannot always afford to eat a balanced diet."

"Nothing but meat," the Doctor breathed.

"Well I suppose that might do it," Usahn agreed, oblivious to the Doctor's distress. "Never did a proper survey to find out what these women were eating. That's what they do, you see, destroy whole families out of unnecessary fear."

"Pale, smooth, sort of cracked looking, retains the same tone regardless of the shade the rest of the skin has taken?"

Usahn looked at the Doctor, concern suddenly etched across his face. "Yes. Why?"

"Black holes and revelations!" The Doctor cursed. "Why does this always happen! Listen I came here with a friend, she was the one who climbed out of the err light stick after me."

"Oh, the prostitute?"

"No! How many times do I have to tell you that it wasn't a brothel?" The Doctor exclaimed. "She has disappeared, and she has the Salazar's Touch."

Usahn's eyes widened in shock. "But she is an outsider! Are you sure?"

"Twelve out of ten, she has a patch of scale on her cheek, she grew up in an environment where she was forced to live solely off a diet meat and she never knew either of her parents. You do the maths."

"But she is an outsider," Usahn exclaimed not quite believing it.

"The universe doesn't revolve around your piddly little planet!" The Doctor exclaimed. "We have to find her now! Who knows what the Commune will do to her."

"Hey don't you see what this means," Usahn said in excitement. "She is proof that the Salazar's Touch is not caused by the Salazars."

"And yet it is the Commune that found her first," the Doctor pointed out bluntly. "And they are hardly about to admit to a mistake are they. They'll twist it to their advantage or simply get rid of the evidence, neither of which is particularly appealing. So we need to find her, now."

"Your logic is spot on," Usahn said as calmly as he could manage. "But I don't know where the Commune is, and I'm sure you don't either."

The Doctor grinned, which was strange considering the situation. "Ah, but did you not realise? I'm a genius! Look I even have a certificate to prove it." He patted his pockets. "In my other jacket unfortunately, but it makes it official. I'll find them!"

"A stirring speech," they both twisted their heads towards the new voice. "But it is incorrect, this time you will not fulfil your promise."

He was a Thoruxan of average build and a wiry frame. The details were not important though, they were more interested in the threatening curved sword that he was holding.

"You talk as if we've met before," the Doctor said casually.

The man grinned manically at the Doctor. "It has been millennia Doctor, yet I could never forget you and apparently you couldn't forget me either or you wouldn't be here."

The Doctor took a closer look at the man, it was only now that he noticed the thin gold coloured wires running along the back of his hands parallel to the bones, the twitch that the man had and the lifelessness of the eyes. It all made perfect sense now. "Hello Xkitor," he said. "I notice you have improved you robotisation process."

"I have had millennia to perfect it," the man grinned.

"I'm sorry?" Usahn butted in. "This man is Xkitor?"

"You wish," the Doctor replied. "He is merely one of the Spawn of Xkitor, acting as a channel for Xkitor to speak to us. His actual body is still trapped otherwise he would have come here himself."

"But why is he here at all?"

"Isn't it obvious?" the Doctor exclaimed. "He's here to kill me, and by extension you."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: the song the Doctor sings is 'Love Me Too' by the Beatles which at the time was groundbreaking or its use of a sitar in the song.<strong>

**If you wish to see the true origin of the KKK's uniforms which the Doctor alludes to follow this link wwwDOTyoutubeDOTcomSLASHwatch?v=N1J2KOiFpUw (substituting the appropriote punctuation in place of DOT and SLASH). In order to understand the last joke you should know that the sketch that came immediately before it involved both Mitchell and Webb discussing whether to do the proper accents in this sketch and coming to a conclusion that neither could actually do a proper deep south accent.  
><strong>


	42. Evil 3

Broxa jumped to her feet and ran up to the door of her cell. One of the men was coming down the line, throwing food into troughs just inside each individual cell, like he was feeding a bunch of caged animals. As he came closer she realised who it was, grinned evilly and sank backwards into the shadows. He slowly made his way up to her cell depositing the pitiful rations that the Commune thought was enough nourishment for a person to survive on, or maybe they knew it was not enough, into each cell. Once he was outside Broxa's cell she gave a roar and leapt at the cell door, the man jumped out of his skin and fell back against the opposite cell.

She cackled mischievously. "What's up? I didn't scare you did I?"

"You will regret that," the man forced out as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Oh I am so scared, what are you going to do to me this time?" she asked mockingly. "I don't see any of your friends around."

"Keep it up," the man snarled, "I'll smash that smirk right off your face!"

"Come and get me then," she challenged. She took a few steps backwards into her cell holding up her arms as if to illustrate her weakness. "I'm just a small weak girl, why don't you come and make me wish I'd never been born."

He didn't dare. While he would never admit it openly it was obvious that he was scared of her. It was understandable, they had taken her down to the cells without any problems and set about untying her bonds so that they could throw her into the cell. As soon as she was freed, however, she had exploded into life, swinging her fists and kicking out with her legs violently. The suddenness of the attack had taken them all by surprise and she had very nearly broken free, but he had been on the ball and had swiftly leapt on her to pin her down. His mistake had been thinking that that was it, she simply waited for him to relax, twisted about suddenly and socked him in the jaw. She then caught his flailing fist and rammed his first two fingers into her mouth. He still had deep welts on the joints to remind him of how close he had been to losing his members.

He growled and stalked off, forgetting to fill up her trough in his haste to leave her behind.

"How can you be so brave?" Broxa's head whipped round searching for the source of the voice. She of course couldn't find anyone, each cell was designed to house one person only. "I'm over here."

Now Broxa finally found the owner of the voice. Peeking between the bars leading into the adjacent cell was a face of a young woman. She was dark skinned, and had dark hair and eyes like all Thoruxans, but it was difficult to make out any distinguishing features with the limited light they had; half of her face was completely in shadows.

"What did you say?" Broxa asked.

"How can you be so brave?" The girl repeated.

Broxa stared back blankly. "Brave?" She repeated.

"The way you stand up to them," the girl explained. "How can you not be frightened of what they will do to you?"

"Should I be?" Broxa frowned in confusion. The girl opened and shut her mouth but made no response. "Surely what you're doing is only making them happy."

"Ignore her Alisandra, she is obviously still in denial."

Broxa turned away from the girl and went to the door of her cell where she had heard the other voice. Upon looking through she spied another woman, this one much older than the one beside her. Because the light was so much closer to her this woman's entire face was visible, and Broxa could see several large patches of her skin that were significantly paler and seemed to reflect the light. The Mondasian cannibal found herself touching her own scale instinctively; she had clearly got lucky compared to some of the people here.

"What was that?" She asked coolly.

"You don't believe do you," the woman challenged. "You think that they are somehow mistaken about your heritage, but I can see the scale on your cheek. It may only be small but it is there nonetheless. You are an abomination like the rest of us."

Broxa stared at her incredulously. "You've given up," she realised. "You've been oppressed for so long that you have started to accept their insults as fact."

"That's because they _are _fact," the woman said.

"What? how can you say that?" Broxa exclaimed. "They have imprisoned us and are treating us like animals."

"I pity you," the woman said genuinely. "Wherever it is you come from you clearly do not know about the Salazars and what they do, you do not know how the Commune are helping us."

"How are they helping you?"

"They are protecting us," the woman explained, "from ourselves."

Broxa looked up and down the corridor, the faces of the many prisoners had slowly appeared in the doors to their cells. Men, women, girls and boys alike, all with varying amounts on scale on their face. Some were like Broxa and had very little and some had scale covering their entire faces; the majority were somewhere in between. They all stared at her, awaiting her response.

"You may be satisfied with your lot here," she said, loud enough to make sure that everyone heard, "but I'm not. I will get out of here and I will find the man who will help us. This regime will soon be over." She disappeared back into the heart of her cell before the woman could come up with any response.

* * *

><p>"A Spawn you say?"<p>

"That is correct," the Doctor nodded. "Surprisingly I don't make things up for the fun of it. Although I did once tell a woman that she... no that's not important right now. You don't want to hear a story about some woman I lied to once upon a dream. Once upon a dream, now I never truly appreciated that expression until now, obviously Walt was either a master at coincidences or he has been leaving me clues for years. Perhaps I should look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities. Forget about your worries and your strife. Yes that's what I need to do, Thank you Walt!"

"But he looks just like you or me," Usahn interrupted.

"Very observant of you," the Doctor responded calmly. He took a few paces to his left in an attempt to draw the Spawn's attention away from the native.

"I always understood that the Spawn were small, malformed creatures," Usahn continued, thus ensuring that the Spawn remained aware of his presence.

"Not anymore," the Spawn assured him. "But how do you know? I thought that all knowledge of my existence had been eradicated."

"That's really not important right now is it?" the Doctor questioned, making a mental note of that last statement's importance and successfully bringing the Spawn's attention back to him. "You have cornered your great enemy, now is the time to destroy him surely."

"You want me to kill you?"

"You mean I get a choice?" the Doctor questioned in surprise. "Well in that case I would like you to just turn around and walk out the door, and give me a little more time. I'm not ready for a full life or death confrontation just yet."

"Oh this new body of yours seems to think of himself as a comedian!" Xkitor exclaimed through the Spawn's impassive face.

"Really? No I would have thought that Clown, Woolly or Liberto would be the best in those respects," the Doctor replied. "I can throw in a couple of jokes for you if you really want. Why do seagulls fly over the sea? If they flew over bays they would be bagels."

"That doesn't answer the question!" Xkitor pointed out."

"No," the Doctor agreed, "but it is funny! You know my granddad was a very possessive person, he just wouldn't let go of anything. He died in the war, clutching hold of a hand grenade. My other granddad on his death bed said to me: _you selfish boy!_"

"Just that?" Usahn questioned. "Was there no reason behind it?"

"Apparently not," the Doctor shrugged. "So a week later I became a fishmonger. My other granddad really liked cats, just like the pope who's a cat-a-holic, that's catholic by the way you probably don't know about them, anyway he had a very good way of dealing with the credit crunch... he died. My other granddad..."

"You will see them all soon," Xkitor taunted. "For now is the time to die."

The Spawn swung its sword in a lethal sideways arc. The wall behind where the Doctor was stood was suddenly decorated by a perfectly horizontal scratch across it, the Doctor himself had dived aside before the blade could strike him. The Spawn twisted around and brought the blade down again only missing by a few inches as the Doctor aside.

"Don't just stand there!" He shouted, frantically deflecting a third strike with Usahn's music stand.

Usahn blinked and came back to reality. "Right," he said hurriedly, "um a Thoruxan, a Salazar and a half-breed walk into a tavern..."

"Not a joke you idiot," the Doctor interrupted, "that won't stop him. Do something proactive."

He looked on helplessly as the Doctor jumped to his feet blocked another blow from the Spawn's sword whilst pulling out his penknife and flicking open the golden blade. He knocked aside another slash with the music stand and jammed the blade into the Spawn's sword arm. It reflexively dropped the sword but otherwise gave no indication of feeling any pain. With the Doctor distracted with the right arm he was unprepared for the left arm striking like a snake to unleash a pincer like grip around his neck.

Usahn started to panic. He knew that he needed to do something but he didn't know what. He looked about frantically and his eyes came to rest on his prized sitar. He glanced back at the Doctor who was slowly being choked to death and he realised what he needed to do.

The Doctor clawed frantically at the hand around his neck but there seemed to be no way for him to break the Spawn's grip. The Spawn smiled manically and spoke once more with Xkitor's voice. "Your time is up Doctor," he mocked. "No regenerations, no Teselecta emulating your image, no companions to save you. The circle is complete!"

There was an almost tuneful reverberation of sound as the sitar came crashing down on the back of the Spawn's head. Before it could do anything about it a second blow was slammed onto its head; this time it was forced to release its grip on the Doctor. The Spawn spun round to face the one wielding the sitar and was struck once more to the sound of vibrating strings. Usahn lifted up the instrument again to bring a fourth blow down on the top of the Spawn's head but it was ready for him this time; it caught the neck of the sitar and ripped it out of Usahn's grip.

"Shall I hit you with your rhythm stick?" Xkitor asked mockingly. The Spawn raised the sitar up into the air ready to bring it crashing down on the helpless Thoruxan's head. All of a sudden the Spawn spasmed and collapsed.

The Doctor was stood behind where the Spawn had been standing brandishing his golden penknife. "Since when did Xkitor have wit?" he wondered. They both looked around at the destruction that had been caused. "Your cleaner isn't very good, you ought to fire her. Looks just like a party, I was once invited to a party but I couldn't get through the door. Too many granddads."

* * *

><p>The street was completely empty with all the residents presumably having gone to market. A door to a seemingly random house opened and the Doctor strode out.<p>

"I don't fully understand it all," Usahn stated as he followed the Doctor out. "How can you have had a previous encounter with Xkitor?"

"That's not difficult to understand," the Doctor replied. "Clearly it means that I came here at some point in the past."

"Yes I realise that," Usahn clarified. "But if the stories are anything to go by then Xkitor only appeared in person a couple of thousand years ago and not even his Spawn have been seen since then. Well until now that is," he added. "In order for you to have met him before you had to have been here when he appeared to us those thousands of years ago. You're too young for that to have happened."

"Twelve out of ten," the Doctor smiled. "With my current general appearance, and your lack of knowledge of my species, that is exactly what you are expected to think. What would you say if I told you that I was actually over three thousand years old?"

"I would say you were looking very well for it," Usahn replied.

"Good answer," the Doctor grinned.

"You're being serious?" Usahn exclaimed. "You are actually that old?"

"Xkitor must be that old as well, if not even older," the Doctor pointed out. "Why is it so difficult to believe it about me?"

"Well Xkitor is an allah," Usahn responded. "Allahs are allowed to live that long."

The Doctor looked at him sharply, after a questioning glance from the Thoruxan he shrugged. "Well I suppose that teaches me to expect every planet in the universe to use the same terminology for their deities." He turned and continued along the street.

"You know the stories give the impression that the Spawn were small, malformed creatures," Usahn commented after a moment of silence. "He looked just like you or me."

"I'm slightly surprised myself," the Doctor responded. "Back in the day they _were_ small, malformed creatures. Perhaps it is best to explain that the Spawn were not born they were built. Xkitor took already living creatures and strapped them to machinery, the creature would die and become a drone under his direct command. They have no intelligence of their own left, they solely rely on remote commands directly from Xkitor himself.

"The problem was that Xkitor was not very good at it. He would botch the process so badly that the creatures would become shrunken and malformed; completely unrecognisable as whatever creature it was originally. In the centuries that have passed since our last encounter he has clearly grown a lot more skilled, so the Spawns are now able to look exactly like the creature that they were originally. Xkitor potentially has eyes everywhere and nobody would notice. Given a few more centuries and he may even be able to perfect the process so that the Spawn retains its original mind and would be able think for itself without Xkitor's instructions; now that would be scary."

Usahn could only nod in agreement, suddenly he found himself questioning every shadow. They turned a corner and the Doctor suddenly backpedalled, pushing the Thoruxan back round the corner and against the wall. "What is it?" he questioned in a panicked voice. "Spawn?"

"Worse," the Doctor said gravely, "it is an assassin." He glanced back round the corner. "I thought I had seen the last of them."

Usahn leaned over to have a look. It was clearly an outsider, his skin was pink, his ears were pointed and he had too many fingers. "We do get some outsiders from time to time," he said with a tone of resignation, "even with the Commune doing what it does. I think you are being a little paranoid."

"Paranoid? What do you take me for? An evil dictator?" the Doctor questioned. "When you have been hunted as much as me you learn how to spot those that mean you harm very well. Oh xess, run!"

"He looked at us, that's hardly proof that he is a homicidal maniac who wants to add you to his list of victims," Usahn said sceptically. The Doctor paid no attention to these words of apparent wisdom. He kicked open the door to the nearest house and charged inside.

Usahn reluctantly followed him into the house to hear a woman screaming. "What the Theta are you doing in my house!"

"Is Theta really a curse on this planet? Wow! Who would have thought it."

"Get out! Get out!"

"Seems slightly odd seeing as Theta was the one who saved you all. I would have expected Xkitor to be the main curse, or is Xkitor a taboo like Voldermort or Frau Blücher?" Somewhere far off the sound of a startled horse could be heard whinnying. "Good grief it actually works and there was me thinking that Young Frankenstein was a completely made up silly film. Who would have thought that it heralded certain facts such a horse getting scared every time you say Frau Blücher." The horse whinnied again.

Usahn walked into the main room to find woman, understandably hysteric due to a strange man having walked into her house, and the Doctor stood in front of her rambling on and being rather cruel to a horse by repeating Frau Blücher over and over.

"Doctor, we should leave," Usahn said loudly to draw their attentions to him.

The woman took one look at him and her already angry face twisted into an even scarier snarl. "Oh I should have known it would be you," she snarled.

"I assure you it was not my intention to burst in on you like this," Usahn said defensively. "Doctor come on, this isn't going to help your friend."

"I have no business with troublemakers like you," the woman continued. "It probably doesn't occur to you that just because we don't follow the ideals of the Commune doesn't mean that we follow yours."

"He's right there!" The Doctor exclaimed and dropped to the ground. The Thoruxans looked out of the window that the Doctor was cowering below, they saw that the aforementioned outsider was indeed standing in the street outside.

"That doesn't mean anything," Usahn replied. "You were about to fall asleep against a house belonging to a member of the Commune when I found you, he could just be exploring like you were."

"There is something creepy about him," the woman said, suddenly not feeling so angry.

"Other than his pointy ears, three eyes, hair with a life of its own and extra fingers?" The Doctor asked hopefully.

"He's looking right at us," she replied.

"That could mean anything," Usahn said, but he wasn't so assertive now. The assassin flexed his fingers and rubbed the tips along the palms of his hands. Almost immediately the palms of his hands erupted into flames. "Theta Sigma!" Usahn exclaimed.

The Doctor poked his head up above the window sill to see what was going on; his eyes widened in shock. "Everybody out, get out now!"

* * *

><p>Triclops wasn't certain that he had seen the Doctor, and Xkitor had insisted that his Spawn would succeed, yet he followed the path the person who looked as if he could be the Doctor anyway. He now stood in front of a house looking in at the Thoruxan who had been with the man who may or may not be the Doctor. Well there was no point in leaving any loose ends, it was better to be safe than sorry. That was the problem with so many of the modern assassins, they took it for granted when they thought the target had been killed and did not make sure; Triclops never made this mistake.<p>

He rubbed the tips of his fingers against the palms of his hands, creating the friction that was required to activate his flamethrower weapon. The twin jets implanted into each hand kicked into life spurting small flames into the palms of his hand. The Thoruxan cursed and a head appeared at the bottom of the window. It was the Doctor, that proved it.

Other assassins would have smirked in triumph, but not Triclops; he was a professional. He calmly pointed his flaming palms towards the window and fired two powerful jets of flame through it. He allowed a good thirty seconds for the flames to really get to work at burning through the insides of the room before ceasing his attack. No one could have possibly survived that had they been inside. He closed his palms instantly extinguishing the flames and jumped up onto the roof with the help of his rocket boots, scanned the street behind the house and, upon seeing nobody, jumped down to the other side.

He stalked down the street listening carefully with his ears and antennae. If they had escaped out the back he would find them and finish the job. There was no hiding from him, he was the best of the assassins, none of the others would have been able to survive as long as he had without the support of the guild. The communicator in his ear suddenly buzzed.

"What is it?" he answered irritably. "I'm a little busy right now."

"Get back here now!" Xkitor ordered from his end of the communication.

"Now? But I'm busy," Triclops moaned. "I'm on the trail of-"

"I don't care much for excuses," Xkitor in a calm manner with underlying tones of menace that only truly powerful beings can perfect. "Stop whatever you are doing and get to me now!" The communicator went silent.

Triclops cursed and turned away from his hunt. The Doctor would have to wait, there was nothing you could say that would placate Xkitor when he was in this sort of mood. He jumped into the air, activated his rocket boots and flew away from the street. A couple of turnings further down street the Doctor and his two companions breathed heavy sighs of relief.

"I haven't had to exit a building so quickly since I applauded the second Sweden goal in their match against England in Euro 2012 whilst I was stood in an English pub," he commented. The two Thoruxans looked at him in confusion.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: The game last night must have been brilliant for all those neutrals out there, but for us English it was traumatic. It's not often that the old Doctor Who phrase of <em>get behind the sofa<em> has to be used somewhere else.  
><strong>

**Frau Blücher is a character from the brilliant comedy film Young Frankenstein, played by Cloris Leachman, one of the running jokes is that the mere mention of her name causes horses to rear up in terror (even if they are inside and there are supposedly no horses in earshot); just so that you understand the reference.**

**The jokes that the Doctor said were all Milton Jones jokes, excluding the seagull one.  
><strong>


	43. Evil 4

"This is definitely the place where most Commune members appear?" the Doctor looked to Usahn for clarification.

"This is where I found you about to fall asleep against the house," Usahn confirmed.

"I still don't understand why you are so keen to find the Commune," the woman said.

The Doctor, unperturbed by this consistent train of thought, grinned at her. "That's what I like to see, ignorance. It's so much more fun to show off how clever one is when those around are thickos," he said happily. The looks he received in response made him look down and cough in embarrassment. "Sorry, my friend has been taken by the Commune. By the way, what would you call the members? Members of the Commune is a bit of a mouthful. Are they Communists? If they are I should point out that that means something slightly different on other planets."

Usahn shrugged. "We normally call them twats," he said. It was now his turn to squirm under a collective questioning stare. "Not to their faces, obviously," he justified.

"Right," the Doctor said, for once regretting his habit of rambling. "Ireenha, Broxa is an outsider like me yet has the Salazar's Touch, so she is in great danger, even greater than Thoruxans with the Salazar's Touch. There are also indications that they will lead me to Xkitor."

"What?" Usahn interrupted. "What does Xkitor have to do with the Commune, they're the ones who began the belief that he never even existed."

"Sorry, are you suggesting that Xkitor was real?" Ireenha added.

"Of course Xkitor is real," the Doctor sighed, "I'm Theta Sigma. No further information required. Were you not paying attention to Xkitor said to us Usahn? He effectively told us that he masterminded that whole policy. Quite a sneaky plot really, if people don't believe he exists then he can just about do whatever he likes and people won't bat an eyelid. Does that sound right to you? Should it be people bat their eyelids?"

"Do you always go around looking for trouble?" Ireenha questioned in disgust.

"Don't need to, I often find that trouble tends find me," the Doctor shrugged.

"You don't have to be here," Usahn reminded her. "You chose to come with us."

"And let him forget about the money he owes me?" She exclaimed. "I know his type. He will run at the first opportunity he gets."

"Actually, I haven't had to run from the debt collectors for centuries," the Doctor replied. "Self-preservation is my most common reason for running. Seeing as you are here you may as well help us. How good are you at acting?"

"Acting?"

"You know, pretending to be something that you are not," he clarified. "I need you to go round that corner for a few minutes."

"So that you can take the opportunity to run off?" She questioned. "You wish."

"I'm not going to run off," the Doctor said defensively, "I promise you."

"That's what they all say," she responded.

"Alright, I'll constantly sing so that you can hear that I am still there," he decided, "will that do?" She folded her arms but nodded. "Good. I want you to go around the corner, wait a few minutes, and when you come back I want you to imagine that you are his wife and act accordingly."

"Are you crazy!" Usahn exclaimed. "That's never going to work! We hate each other, and you want us to pretend to be married."

"I didn't say you had to actually marry one another," the Doctor sighed. "That's why you're pretending. Can you do that Ireenha?"

She looked Usahn up and down with a look of disgust. "I'll try my best," she said without much conviction.

"Right, now you run along and I'll arrange things at our end," the Doctor said as if he were trying to enthuse a small child. Ireenha gave him a death glare, he looked around to see who she was giving it to for it certainly couldn't have been directed at him, and turned on her heels to storm off. The Doctor now turned to Usahn. "What is the Commune's attitude to homosexuality?"

"You mean a man loving another man, or a woman loving another woman?" The Thoruxan clarified.

"Is there another kind of homosexuality?"

"Point taken. They dislike it, not as much as Salazars or outsiders, but they dislike it nonetheless."

"Good," the Doctor grinned, "the plan should work then."

"I don't hear any singing!"

The Doctor beamed, he had spent most of this life trying to sing while most of the people around him were trying to stop him. Finally, someone was asking for him to sing; well if that was what she wanted...

"Young man, there's no need to feel down.  
>I said, young man, pick yourself off the ground.<br>I said, young man, 'cause you're in a new town  
>There's no need to be unhappy.<p>

Young man, there's a place you can go.  
>I said, young man, when you're short on your dough.<br>You can stay there, and I'm sure you will find  
>Many ways to have a good time.<p>

It's fun to stay at the y-m-c-a.  
>It's fun to stay at the y-m-c-a."<p>

The Doctor danced perfectly in time with his singing, doing all the moves and making Usahn wonder exactly when he was going to put his plan into action. What he didn't realise was that the plan was already in action and it was about to get a whole lot worse for him. The Doctor suddenly pushed him up against the wall and began to kiss him passionately. He paused every so often to sing the chorus to the song once again or compliment Usahn on how sexy he was; Usahn was completely thrown by this action so did nothing to stop him.

"What the Dominica are you doing?"

The Doctor paused to turn to Ireenha in confusion. "Dominica? Well I suppose she did have a hand in the legend as well. Never mind." He shook his head to bring himself back to reality. "Usahn and I are in love, so what?"

"What?" she was about to go on about how he had only just met him and how she was pretty certain that Usahn was not gay but saw the little flicker in his eyes that told her that this was his plan so knew what she needed to do. "He is my husband!"

"Husband? But Usahn you said that I was special, am I not special. How can you lead me on like that while having a wife at the same time?" the Doctor mocked feeling hurt by the fake revelation.

"What are you talking about?" Usahn exclaimed.

"Of course you are just rejecting me now, but I don't forget what you said and what we did, how can you be so cold you..." before he could finish he was tackled to the ground by some unknown assailant.

The assailant promptly spat on him and said: "Gay bastard! Are you alright sir."

"Yes," Usahn nodded uncertainly, "I think..." it was at this point that he realised exactly who it was that had tackled the Doctor to the ground. "Oh I get it now!"

"Get what?"

"Oh nothing," he replied hurriedly.

"What are you waiting for then?" the Doctor asked. "Take me to your leader. Oh yeah, there I go again always loved that line, ow! Alright I'll shut up. I'm very good at shutting up if you just ask me. I once shut up so well that I didn't speak for an entire day, they had to take me to the doctor and he said to me, arrgh ow! Stop hitting me! Ow!"

* * *

><p>Triclops stalked cautiously down the darkened corridor towards the heart of Xkitor's lair. There were many things he disliked about Xkitor: his blind insanity (no assassin liked to work for a mad employer no matter how much money they were being paid), the fact he wasn't actually paying Triclops, only keeping him sweet with promises that he will be allowed to live in the future, this in itself lead to the next reason he disliked him which was because of the continuing threat of being killed at any moment (the previous assassins who had worked for Xkitor had all been robotised and it hadn't always been because they had refused to work without being paid) and his annoying habit of insisting that he dropped everything in order to come down to meet him, forcing him to cease in his pursuit of a target; just to name a few. He did like the meeting in darkened rooms though, it brought him back to the good old days when employers always insisted on remaining mysterious. An employer who revealed who he was and all the reasons behind his actions most often led to the assassin questioning the politics of his assignment and so was unable to perform adequately; with a mysterious employer you could act without having to worry about the politics because you didn't know.<p>

"You summoned me," Triclops said as he entered Xkitor's inner sanctum.

"I have to advance my plans," Xkitor stated. "The Spawn failed, you must activate the energy leech now."

Triclops went over to the control panel on the wall and began to press a few buttons. "Does it never occur to you that I might be doing something important when you choose to summon me like that," he said as he worked.

"It does not matter, what happens on the surface," Xkitor dismissed. "What matters is my return."

"Even if it involves me on the trail of your greatest enemy?" the assassin asked wryly.

Xkitor was silent for a moment at this. "You were trailing the Doctor?" he said eventually. The assassin nodded. "Well why didn't you say!"

"Rejjol, Cole, Cin, Vramp," he counted off his fingers as he listed his predecessors, "I'm sure that what they were doing was very worthwhile as well but you still killed them for not listening to your summons, I'm hardly going to ignore you with that history."

"That doesn't excuse it!" Xkitor bit back.

"Kill me then!" Triclops shouted back. "Turn me into another of your walking zombies, but if you did that you would lose the skills that I possess, you won't be able to have someone who can integrate with society so well. And you cannot replace me either, Sundew has fallen, there are no more assassins."

"I am not going to kill you," Xkitor said silkily. "You are a kindred spirit, and I recognise your skills. I could just get a Spawn to activate the energy leech but they cannot deal with the Doctor effectively like you can."

"Kindred spirit?" Triclops noticed. "With what? How does that have anything to do with anything?"

"I can relate to you Triclops," Xkitor said, "You are my favourite of all the assassins."

"Like the previous one was before me," he muttered. Louder he said: "Activating energy leech."

There was no ominous hum or whir or a dramatic flash of lights to signal the activation of the so called energy leech only the horrible, manic, grating laughter of Xkitor. "Soon Doctor!" the ancient evil promised. "Soon I will be ready to meet you again! Soon I shall be free!"

* * *

><p>"You make me sick, it's bad enough that you choose to come to our planet in the first place but then you decide to attack a poor innocent bystander."<p>

"Well it wasn't technically an attack it was more of an unwanted physical connection," the Doctor responded. "I was kissing him and he didn't want it, I will admit that, but it was hardly an attack. You make it sound as if I came up to him and started hitting him with a stick."

The Commune leader's expression remained on one of fury. He leaned forward across the table so that his face was inches from the Doctor's. "It may well have started out with you simply kissing him, and frankly that is bad enough, a man kissing another man," he turned and spat on the floor, "disgusting. We do not care what sort of foul practices you get up to on your planet, so long as it stays on your planet. But it could have easily turned into an attack. You could have stabbed him with this," he picked up the Doctor's penknife which had been confiscated earlier, "or strangled him with this," he picked up a yo-yo that had also been found in the Doctor's pockets and unwound the string.

"What about the toy car? What could I have done with that?" the Doctor challenged, although in a light-hearted manner. "Or that torch, or that paper. Well actually I suppose I could have given him a paper cut."

"Do you think this is funny?" the leader roared.

"No, no, no, no," the Doctor shook his head vehemently, "well, maybe a little bit. I mean all I did was kiss another man and declare my love for him, if anything I should be pressing charges against your man for unprovoked assault. Next thing you'll be telling me that you are locking people up because they have a skin disease."

The leader narrowed his eyes threateningly. He picked up a small white paper bag and emptied the contents. "What are these?" he interrogated. "Smuggling drugs in as well?"

"More jelly babies?" the Doctor exclaimed. "Where do they keep coming from? I honestly don't know how they got there, and I am being serious for once. They're a sweet that I used to like but have long since lost the taste for, they still like to appear in my pocket from time to time almost as if they have a life of their own, well they are babies I suppose. Try one if you like, in fact have them, I don't want them."

"What planet are you from?" the leader questioned tiredly.

"Gallifrey," the Doctor responded after a dramatic pause.

The leader did not even bat an eyelid, he simply wrote it down on one of the Doctor's pieces of paper. "Ok, we are going to contact this Gallifrey and arrange to have you deported as soon as possible. In the mean time you are going to remain in our custody."

"Oh no you won't," the Doctor sang back. "Contact Gallifrey I mean, it isn't there anymore, have you not heard?"

"Well you will stay in our custody for a very long time then," the leader stated matter-of-factly. He turned to one of the trained thugs that was also in the room. "Take him to the cells."

"And about time too," the Doctor stood up and began gathering up his things.

"We'll keep hold of your effects," the leader said smugly as the thug grabbed hold of his wrists and made him drop everything. "We'll let you have them back when you leave."

"Which is never of course," the Doctor added cynically. "It's funny, for a secret, racist, organisation that works outside the law you are maintaining very high pretentions of honour and fair play. You claim that you will try and find a way to get me off this planet but I am pretty certain that you won't bother, you will simply leave me to rot in one of your little cells just like you do with all those people with the Salazar's Touch. It isn't even caused by the Salazars! It's a misnomer. Do any of you ever bother to stop and check the science behind it? No I don't think you do. What have the Salazars even done to you exactly? The way I remember it, it was them who helped to save you from he who must not be named; some thanks that is. That's it, that's what his plan was. That's very cunning, forcing you all to forget about him and then ostracise those that wouldn't forget; meaning the Salazars."

"Take him away!" the leader shouted.

"At least let me keep my hat!" the Doctor exclaimed, grasping for his hat which had also been on the table.

"And have you smuggle something inside of it?" the leader raised his eyebrows. "No you cannot!"

The Doctor conceded the point and offered no further resistance as he was dragged away. He was taken down a dark corridor with flickering lights and soon found that he was being herded between cells on both sides. The residents of each cell all poked their heads up against the bars staring at him. They were all afflicted with the Salazar's Touch.

"They're lying to you, you realise," the Doctor said as he went. "They are telling you that you are like that because a Salazar raped your mother, or something along those lines, but that is untrue."

"Oh good, another delusional one," one of the prisoners said.

"That is exactly the sort of thing I am concerned about," the Doctor said in response. "This defeatist attitude that they are causing in you. It's almost as if you want to be oppressed. You are living, breathing, clever people with great potential but you are not going to meet your potential down here are you."

"Doctor!"

He paused and turned to the owner of the voice, his face twisted into a smile. "Broxa! Fancy meeting you here. I'd love to stay and chat but the bell boy is bit keen to get me to his room."

"Don't eat the food," she called after him. "They've put something in it."

"I'll bear that in mind, what here?" he questioned. "I thought I would be further along." He was directed into the cell right next to Broxa. He went in without a fuss and allowed the guard to lock the door without any trouble. The guard turned and disappeared back down the way he had come, muttering about how that explained why she hadn't fallen asleep yet. They waited until he was definitely out of earshot before conversing.

"What's the plan then?" Broxa asked.

"it's nice to see you too," the Doctor replied. "Are we not allowed a little moment to exchange pleasantries. No of course not, all work and no play. You don't know what I would give to have one simple trip to Davey Crocket to go Gumblejack fishing, no death or danger, just me with a fishing rod and my wits against the poor innocent fish that are stupid enough to not realise that the reason Jimmy never came back was because he chose to try and eat a worm that was dangling off the end of a hook in the middle of the water, out of its natural habitat, as well. But then again, knowing my luck I will just happen to visit on the day that someone chooses to spill nuclear waste into the river so that the Gumblejack all mutate into giant man-eating sea monsters.

"Ok the first thing we need to do is open this door." He clicked his fingers and turned to examine the lock. "Right I will need one of your hair clips."

"Hair clips?" Broxa replied in confusion.

The Doctor lowered his hands away from the lock and turned to her very slowly. "No of course you don't, I need to stop thinking of you like my other female companions."

"Why would you need one anyway?" she wondered.

"I would have used it to pick the lock," the Doctor explained. "Well I guess we will have to resort to plan b then."

"Great, what's plan b?"

"She said I love you boy I love your soul, she said I love you baby, oh oh oh ohh," he sang. "Yes I know, that was a terrible pun, but how could you expect me to resist it? Well you could show some sort of reaction, Lisa at least groaned when... forget it you shouldn't be expected to understand, it's an Earth reference."

"As much as I admire your ability to talk for as long you do about complete rubbish," Broxa said, "it can be very irritating when we are trying to do something important. Is this your way of trying to prevent me from noticing your lack of a plan b?"

"Alright you got me, I haven't got a plan b," the Doctor admitted.

"Well what was the point in turning yourself in if you don't have a plan?" she exclaimed.

"To be fair, most of the time I improvise rather than planning especially far ahead," he justified. "But I suppose I was a bit overly reliant on you being in possession of an object that with hindsight was stupid of me to expect you to have. So how are you then?"

"Bored," she replied honestly. "The guard hasn't been down for hours. And they aren't exactly the best company."

"They're already beaten aren't they," the Doctor guessed.

"To be honest some of them might not be, but it is hard to tell with her here," she pointed to the woman in the cell opposite hers. "She's the one that is really keeping everyone down, seems to genuinely believe in what they are saying." She turned to him, concern suddenly etched on her face. "They are wrong aren't they?" she asked. "The Salazar's touch is not caused by one of your parents being a Salazar."

"Of course not," the Doctor replied. "You're living proof of that. The Salazars never have been, and never will go, to Mondas."

She breathed a huge sigh of relief, it was suddenly very clear just how anxious she had been up until that moment. "Ok," she said, smiling despite the situation. "How are we going to get out of here."

"Find something long and thin to pick the lock with, or simply nick one of the jailers keys when he next comes round," the Doctor shrugged, "the usual sort of thing. We could simply try to, ok that's really getting annoying now!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Have the lights always been like this?"

Broxa shook her head. "Just started a few minutes before you were brought in," she replied. "Not something to do with you?"

"I am not behind everything untoward that ever happens in places," he replied, slightly hurt. "You make it sound as if I am some common as muck trouble maker."

"So you have no idea how to get us out of this?"

"Nope, but give me a little time and I will definitely think of something."

"Might I be of asssssissssstansssss?" a voice from above them said.

The both looked up in search of this new voice. The Doctor grinned from ear to ear. "What do you know," he said. "A Salazar. I wondered when one of you lot was going to show up. I think we have just found our plan b."


	44. Evil 5: Uprising

Uprising

"Something isn't right," Triclops tapped several buttons frantically. "You're not leeching enough energy."

"What do you mean? The leech is taking the exact amount that I require," Xkitor replied.

"Well you must have miscalculated," the assassin responded. "The readings suggest that the targeted energy supply will deplete itself before it has filled up the energy reserves needed to reawaken you."

"I have been planning this moment for three thousand years!" Xkitor roared. "Do you really think that I would have miscalculated?"

"What I think on that subject doesn't matter," Triclops replied. "The evidence is telling me that you have miscalculated."

Xkitor was silent for a moment, as if pondering an appropriate comeback. "What exactly do you think the purpose of this energy leech is?" Xkitor questioned calmly.

Triclops twisted his head towards the source of Xkitor's voice. "You're not trying to reawaken yourself? What is this all for then?" he exclaimed.

"Even the mightiest of warriors does not walk into battle alone," Xkitor said philosophically. "He always ensures that he has followers at his back."

There was a sound in the distance, a scrabbling, scraping sound like tiny feet trying to gain purchase on a smooth stone floor. "Your awakening the Spawns," Triclops breathed, "The original Spawns."

"There is no miscalculation assassin," Xkitor stated. "This leech is to restore my army. My army will then find the component to restore me."

The shuffling and scraping grew louder and louder signifying that the Spawns were all starting to wake up now. The early risers pushed themselves out of the hiding holes that they had hidden themselves in so long ago and crawled towards their maker and controller. Xkitor laughed manically, a laugh that grated in Triclops' skull every time.

"You mislead me," Triclops said as calmly as he could manage once the laughter receded. "You led me to believe that we were simply waking you up."

"But I am already awake," Xkitor replied. "Why would you need to wake up that which is not asleep. But only the Spawn would recognise the component that you should seek, the component that will restore the control over my body. So in a way you are simply working to wake me up. Once the Spawns are fully awake they will carry out their mission, you should stay here and protect me, or would you prefer to reacquaint yourself with Rejjol, Cole, Cin and Vramp?"

* * *

><p>The small reptilian creature slowly lowered itself out of the roof of the Doctor's cell. It was long and thin and covered in burnt orange scales, the perfect camouflage for the desert terrain. There were no arms or legs, just a thin body that merged into a thin tail with a small diamond shaped head. In fact it was very much like a snake native to the Earth's deserts. A purple forked tongue flicked out to make up for its lack of nostrils by tasting the air, its green eyes had slits for pupils. The things that made it different from a snake were that it had semitransparent eyelids that flicked across its eyes every few seconds and that it seemed to be wearing a brown leather jacket made up of leather straps and pouches.<p>

The Doctor looked the Salazar up and down. "I am sssstill in my adolessensssss," the Salazar said before the Doctor could ask his question.

"How long?" the Doctor settled for.

"Not long at all," the Salazar responded.

"Well, try not to do it without me," he said, "I've always wanted to see it happen."

"Can't make any promississss," the Salazar responded, "but I'll try. Ssso, you wisss to liberate the half-breedssss."

"Oh don't you call them that as well," the Doctor scolded. "You of all people should know what a load of nonsense it is."

"I do," the Salazar agreed, "but until we can think of a better name we ssssould sssstick with it."

"Fair enough," the Doctor shrugged. "What do you call yourself? What's your name?"

"I'm called Ssssingh," he replied.

"Singh?" the Salazar nodded. "Nice to meet you Singh, I would shake your hand but you seem to be lacking in that department."

"_This_ is a Salazar," Broxa had been speechless up until this point. "Where are the arms? Where are the legs?"

"Clever isn't it," the Doctor grinned. "Mother Nature at her best. Creatures that shouldn't work, but do, just like the snakes on Earth."

"I've never seen anything like it," Broxa breathed.

"Do you remember that adder that bit you?"

She grimaced at the memory. "I couldn't forget that," she said.

"Adders are snakes," he explained. "The only venomous one in Great Britain. Quite a coincidence that one of your first steps on British soil would lead to you stepping on the only thing that's bite could prove fatal, almost as if there is someone up there deliberately causing unpleasant things to happen to us."

Broxa glanced up and the ceiling with a look of confusion on her face. "I don't see anyone," she said.

"It's an expression," the Doctor replied. He turned back to the Salazar. "Do you have some way to let us out of our cells?"

"In my webbing," Singh nodded. "You could pick the lock with one of the sssordsss."

The Doctor gently reached into Singh's webbing and unstrapped a tiny knife from its pouch. It was really very small, not even as large as a butter knife, only a really small creature with small hands and arms would really describe it as sword. He gently rubbed the tip of his finger against the edge of the blade, it was razor sharp so took off the outermost layer of his skin. "Will I not ruin the edge?" he questioned.

"If you are very good it sssouldn't make that much differensss," Singh replied. "Bessidessss I don't need them yet."

The Doctor put his eye up against the lock and squinted in the flickering light, he looked down at the sword in his hand and back at the lock once more. "I will do less damage if I use the other one as well," he said.

"Very well," the Salazar came close to allow the Time Lord to remove the other sword from its pouch.

The Doctor stuck both swords into the lock, one was held still while the other was twisted about in search of the individual bolts. The lights flickered and went out. That didn't bother the Doctor, he could pick a lock with his eyes closed. He blocked the sound of the Commune members running about, frantically trying to locate the source of the power cut, from his mind, he needed to concentrate all his efforts on the job at hand.

There was a final click as the lock finally opened. "I'm free," he sang, "I'm free. And freedom tastes of reality."

"Don't go out yet," Singh cautioned. "We need to wait for the sssignal."

"What signal?" the Doctor questioned.

"Careful there's someone coming," Broxa cautioned. The Doctor hurriedly pulled the swords from the lock and returned them to their pouches in Singh's webbing so that he could disappear into the ceiling once more. This was one of the many good things about this companion, Broxa had very good senses; even better than his own.

The light slowly made its way down the cells, a lantern being placed in certain points along the way. The last one was placed just outside the Doctor's cell. He knew that he should try to avoid drawing attention to himself, they didn't want the man to try to open the cell for any reason only to discover that it was unlocked. But that would be acting out of character, and might make them even more suspicious.

"Shine Jesus shine, fill this land the father's glory. Blaze spirit blaze, set our hearts on fire. Flow river flow, flood the nations with grace and mercy. Send forth you word, Lord and let there be light," he sang loudly. The guard gave him a slightly odd look but made no comment, he turned and headed back down the corridor.

"Where are you going?" the woman opposite Broxa called after him. "You should be keeping an eye on him, he's trying to escape."

The man ignored the shout, continuing to walk down the corridor. "Yeah, I'm an escape risk," the Doctor called after him. "You should make sure I haven't been trying to unlock my cell while you have been away. No, do you not care what prisoner of the year over there has to say?"

"Doctor what are you doing?" Broxa asked, concern clearly in her voice.

"Being myself," the Doctor replied. "Besides it is quite clear that he doesn't care what we say."

"Why is he coming back then?"

"What?" the Doctor glanced back down the corridor to see that the man had indeed turned and was making his way back towards them. "Oh black body radiator," he cursed. "Back to square one then."

The guard stopped in front of the Doctor's cell and looked in at him. "You wouldn't be trying to escape would you?" the guard asked.

"Can you blame me if I was?" the Doctor replied.

The guard smirked at this but said nothing, leant forwards to grab the door, rattled it vigorously, yet was careful to not actually open it and turned to walk off; but not before winking at the Doctor. The Doctor grinned at this revelation. "I wouldn't worry Broxa, he seems to be one of us, though exactly who us is I'm not sure. Possibly a friend of Usahn's although he never mentioned working with Salazars."

"Who?"

"Never mind, we'll meet up with him later. What sort of signal are we waiting for exactly Singh?" he turned his attention to the ceiling once more.

"Aziman has to tell us that the coast is clear," the Salazar replied. "It is quite obvious as signals go."

"Fair enough. I suppose hooting like an owl does always lead to confusion when the actual birds themselves decide to hoot causing the team awaiting that cry to act far too soon leading to disastrous, yet often comical, consequences. And of course as there are no animals of the ornithological variety on this planet a sudden hooting of an owl would just cause the guards to grow more suspicious. Actually the owl hooting has been used so often I am surprised that guards haven't grown into the habit of rushing straight back to the thing that they are guarding whenever they hear that noise," the Doctor continued to ramble on about animal noises and the stupidity of guards for several minutes, he was so engrossed in the topic that he almost missed the signal.

"All clear," Aziman called down the corridor.

"Right," the Doctor jumped to his feet. "Before I barge out of my cage, just to clarify, the plan is to unlock all the doors and then lead all the prisoners to safety, isn't it."

"Correct," Singh confirmed.

"Very well," he kicked open the door strode out and began to sing.

"I wanna leave this town, I wanna travel south far, yeah  
>I wanna meet you all, I wanna have some fun<br>You wanna join me now, you wanna join me now

it's a party, and don't you know it don't get much better  
>We're gonna make it such an awesome party<br>And you should know it don't get much sweeter  
>So here we go."<p>

As he sang he danced up and down the corridor for no apparent reason and would kick at certain random doors, almost as if he expected to kick the door off its hinges. Due to having completed his regeneration back on the Sundew base he no longer had excess bio-energy coursing through his veins so was not able to perform great feats of strength like before. He was unperturbed by this failure though, he danced up to the bemused Aziman, plucked the keys from his hand and turned back to another random cell to unlock it.

The prisoners cowered in their cells, they had no idea what was going on, this could easily be some new form of torment that the Commune had cooked up for all they knew. Occasionally the Doctor would enter the cell to try and pull the inhabitant into a dance with him. They would scream and thrash about until he left them alone, which was normally quite quickly. Only one of the prisoners seemed to know what was going on, and she didn't like it at all. Her screams to the real guards that the prisoners were escaping lead to the Doctor singing even louder in an attempt to drown her out; the consequence of which he should have really predicted.

"What is the meaning of this?" the leader of the commune demanded. The Doctor slowly trailed off and turned towards him. He was flanked by several guards but didn't seem to have noticed that Aziman was not actually one of them.

"It's a party," the Doctor explained. "Trying to boost morale a bit but the other residents don't seem to want to get involved."

"He's in league with the Salazars, you should kill him now!" the woman shouted.

"I had intended for it to be a private affair but you can join in if you want," the Doctor continued, ignoring her.

"You clearly have no interest in preserving the peace," the leader stated. "We have found no record of Gallifrey so no one will miss you. Kill him."

Two guards unsheathed long, curved swords and slowly began to advance down the corridor towards him. He smirked, held out his arms dramatically. "Oppressed and imprisoned," he proclaimed, "the time has come to throw off your chains, stand up and beat back your oppressors and prove that they are the evil ones, not you." There was an embarrassing lack of action from any of the occupants of the now unlocked cells. "Err... that means attack." Nothing continued to happen.

A cell door behind him rattled. "Of all the cells to forget to unlock, you would forget me wouldn't you!" Broxa exclaimed.

"Right," the Doctor turned to head towards her but quickly jumped back to face the guards when he heard their pace quicken holding up the key in a threatening manner. He was pleased to find that they suddenly faltered again. "Little busy now, Broxa. Is no one going to stand up for their own freedom?"

"No," the woman mocked. "And do you know why, it is because they know that this is where we all belong."

This statement had the exact opposite effect to the one she had been expecting. The young girl called Alisandra stepped out of her cell. "We haven't all given up like you have," she proclaimed. She slowly walked down to stand next to the Doctor. Following her example the others ever so slowly began to exit their own cells and stared at the oncoming guards threateningly. The intensity of the stares was disconcerting enough to cause the guards to come to a standstill.

The leader sighed heavily. "We were beginning to run out of room anyway, kill them all."

The guards lifted up their swords in preparation to bring them down on the necks of the nearest prisoners. "Not so fast," the Doctor shouted. They froze and turned towards him. "Do you not realise, but if you cut of one head then two more will grow in its place." He closed his hands into fists and punched them up diagonally in front of him. "Hail Hydra!

"Except it should really be heil Hydra not hail because they are Germans, and if the bolt holding that flag pole up had really been there for seventy years then it would have long since rusted and welded itself to the pole meaning that the hero wouldn't have been able to simply remove it to lower the pole. The whole film was just a cheesy, nationalistic romp that those outside of America and or above twelve, which is strange seeing as that it is supposedly a 12 certificate, would not appreciate. It was a lot of fun, however, to go _oh I recognise him_ every five minutes, but that came to an end after all the characters were introduced obviously, Hugo Weaving always makes a good villain and Toby Jones is always creepy; but having said that I always find Toby Jones creepy, not sure why. But what the dwarf planet happened at the end? Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the villain's weapon turning against him but the Tesseract suddenly causing Red Skull to disappear for no apparent reason is stretching credibility even by my standards and I once persuaded a bunch of humans that the world was flat. Oh now that was funny, the entire species ended up believing it for several hundred years, even the Master never managed to get a lie to stretch on for that long and he is really one for crafty trickery..."

Broxa was the first to realise what the Doctor was playing at. "Quick, while they're distracted, attack!" she shouted. The prisoners snapped out of the trance the Doctor had put them under and dived at the two guards, dragging them to the ground and quickly disarmed them. the rest of the Commune then slipped out of their own trance and charged forwards to aid their fallen colleagues.

The battle raged on, not that the Doctor noticed, he was too busy rambling on about some of the lies that the Master had told about him over their centuries in almost constant conflict.

"You can stop now Doctor," Broxa said. He didn't notice so she shouted his name once again. This brought his attention, he went over to her cell and inserted the key into the lock.

Once the door was unlocked he looked back at the carnage that was going on further down. "I would like to just leave them to it," he said. "But annoyingly we need to head that way in order to get out."

"What a shame," Broxa said sarcastically, "we are going to have to join in."

Before the Doctor could stop her she leaped onto the back of a nearby guard who was about to stab Alisandra and snapped his neck, it was quite disturbing how efficient she was. He knew better than to try to stop her now when she was just starting to enjoy herself so simply walked through the centre of the fight, thumping any guard who came too close. Up ahead he saw that Aziman was slowly getting overpowered, a guard had his hands wrapped around his throat and was slowly squeezing the life out of him.

The Doctor casually strode up behind the guard and jabbed him in one of the pressure points in his back. The guard gave a strangled cry and reflexively released his grip around Aziman's neck, this allowed Aziman to wriggle free and punch him in the jaw. The punch, coupled with the Doctor's use of Venusian karate knocked the guard out cold. "You never forget it," the Doctor muttered. "Have we met before? You seem familiar."

"Duck!" the Doctor followed Aziman's advise allowing him to punch another guard that was sneaking up behind the Doctor. "I am quite a well known face," Aziman shrugged. "Many people come to my stall in the market."

"Oh that's it," the Doctor realised, casually dislocating the shoulder of another guard. "I saw you when I was at the market, you seemed slightly rattled for some reason."

"Yes," Aziman nodded, he blocked a couple clumsy punches from a guard who had somehow got his own sword stabbed through his own arm. "Your friend was abducted right in front of my eyes."

"And you didn't bother to say anything?" the Doctor leant back to avoid a scything blow from a sword and kicked the surprised guards wrist to make him drop the sword.

"I was a sworn double agent," Aziman replied, spun round to kick a man behind him and quickly apologised when he discovered it was one of the prisoners. "I needed to keep a low profile. But it was that event that allowed me to persuade Singh to join this attack."

"Fair enough, look I think the ex-prisoners can handle the rest of them," he said holding Aziman back from cruelly stomping on a fallen guards hand. "Why don't we see where the fearless leader has disappeared to."

Aziman looked about frantically and for the first time realised that the leader of the Commune was not among them. "We can't let him escape, he'll just start this up all over again."

"Twelve out of ten," the Doctor agreed. "You coming Broxa?"

"Coming where?"

"We're going to stop the leader," the Doctor explained.

"Right, well I want to give him a piece of my mind too," she gave the guard she was fighting one last punch before skipping over to the Doctor.

"I'm impressssed," Singh gently lowered himself from his hiding place in the ceiling to rest on Broxa's shoulders. "I have not sssseen a female fight with sssuch passsson."

"Speaking of which," Aziman spoke up. "Where were you? We could have used your help with that."

"I am not ready for sssuch a battle yet," the Salazar replied.

"We can exchange pleasantries later," the Doctor cut in, before Aziman could respond. "We need to stop the leader before he gets away."

They nodded in agreement and sprinted off down the corridor.

* * *

><p>"It shall not be long now ," Xkitor squealed with delight. "Soon I will be complete once more and then I will be able to throw off my shackles and fly across the sky once more. And most importantly I will be able to get my revenge on the greatest of all foes. The destroyer of my species, the bringer of darkness, the first evil. Theta Sigma."<p>

"You mean they have found the component already?" Triclops questioned.

"Not quite, but they are not far from it," Xkitor explained. "I already knew where it was after all."

"What? But if you knew where it was why didn't you send me?"

"Because it is in a place that, despite your skills, you will not be able to enter without anybody noticing."

"Why where is it?"

"The headquarters of the Commune of True Thoruxans," Xkitor said ominously.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: the songs that the Doctor sang in this chapter were: I'm free by The Who, Shine Jesus Shine, and It's a Party by The Subways. Toby Jones played the Dreamlord in Amy's choice in case you were wondering.<strong>


	45. Evil 6: Death

Death of the Commune

The leader was in a panic. The half-breeds had all escaped and soon they would run riot in the entire town and he couldn't allow that. Admittedly it would prove to the governments exactly how dangerous they were, but he was not a corrupt man; he knew that others would be happy to release them onto the streets to show the world their viciousness, but he wouldn't sink to that level. He was more concerned at this stage about what sort of damage they could potentially do and it was up to him to stop them. It was lucky that he had prepared for such an eventuality.

The ventilation system was a warren of ducts that twisted about the entire building allowing the circulation of fresh air even into the deepest, darkest parts of the building, it had not taken much to bribe the architect into allowing a small change to this particular area. All he needed to do was key in the specific code, known only by himself, into the ventilation controls and in five minutes a toxic gas would be released across the entire building.

After packing up all his belongings, he would not be able to come back afterwards, he marched over to the control pad and prepared to key in the code. He froze for a second then slowly twisted his head to look at the bare wall; it was not normally bare.

"Lost something fearless leader?"

The leader turned his head to the sound of the voice. "Oh, you," he said with contempt. "The homo, the traitor, the abomination, and a Salazar as well I see."

"What's a homo?" Broxa frowned.

"You realise that I was only doing that so that you would capture me and get me inside don't you?" the Doctor questioned hurriedly.

"I don't care why you did it, you still did it."

"You have nowhere left to run now," Singh sneered. "You will sssurrender and be put on trial for your crimessss."

"And you really think that I am going to agree to your terms?" the leader asked rhetorically. "I do not make deals with Salazars."

"He isn't asking you to make a deal, he is saying that you are trapped and that if you don't come quietly we will be forced to use lethal force," Aziman countered.

"Aw, I was going to say that," the Doctor moaned. "I suppose it looks better if you actually say things occasionally rather than standing there looking tough all the time. That just leads to you getting labelled as strong but stupid and, no sorry, this isn't the time is it."

The leader smirked ever so slightly and turned back to the control panel. "I suppose you have me beaten," he said airily, thumbing in the code. "But my family motto has always been: yshala lho uhshala."

The Doctor and Aziman gasped in shock, only Broxa remained ignorant. "What the xess does that mean?" she exclaimed.

"I'm going to town then you're going to town I think," the Doctor explained. "Although that doesn't sound that scary actually."

"Actually it means: if I'm going down then you're going down," Aziman corrected.

"Oh, yes of course, my mistake. That does make a lot more sense," the Doctor's smile suddenly disappeared. "What have you done?"

"You have five minutes to get out before this whole building fills with gas," the leader smirked. He turned and began to stroll towards the exit.

"Wait a minute, we aren't finished with you," the Doctor called after him. He jogged a few steps after him until something hard hit him on the side of the head. Once the stars had disappeared from his vision he looked up to see Aziman punch a guard, almost certainly the one who had hit the Doctor, in the face causing him to stumble backwards in pain. But Aziman was concentrating so much on the guard in front of him that he did not notice the one behind, the Doctor's warning cry came too late. Aziman looked down at the tip of the blade sticking out of his chest as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, upon the guard removing his sword the cloth salesman collapsed to the floor like a ragdoll.

The Doctor jumped up and rolled him onto his back. There was an eerie smile on the man's face. "The circle is complete," Aziman breathed.

"No, stay with me," the Doctor put his hand over the wound in a futile attempt to staunch the bleeding. He barely registered the sound of fighting above him.

"I persecuted half-breeds," Aziman said weakly, almost as if he were talking to himself, "murdered Salazars. They would have executed me but Singh insisted on giving me another chance, proved them wrong, proved they had mercy."

The Doctor squeezed his hand affectionately as the life slowly drained from his body, he respectfully closed his eyes once he was gone. Looking up he saw that one guard with blood pouring out of one eye was holding Singh tightly round his neck; the Salazar was wriggling futilely. Another was in a heap on the floor with Broxa standing over the top of him, she was holding on to his sword but for some reason seemed reluctant to step forwards to attack. He glanced behind him and saw that a third guard was holding a sword against the back of his neck.

"As touching as this new found affection is I can't help thinking that in moments like this I would prefer to have the cold, cannibal leader that you were when we first met on Mondas," he commented, she just shrugged. He twisted his head the other way to see the leader off in the distance. "Can we at least have one last question before we die?" he called after him. the leader ignored him and continued on his exit. The Doctor chose to ask anyway. "What exactly did Xkitor promise you?"

The leader froze in his tracks and twisted round to stare at the Doctor in shock. The Doctor grinned, he had finally caught him out. "What was the agreement?" he pressed.

"But Xkitor isn't real, is he?" one of the guards queried.

The leaders shocked expression suddenly changed into an evil smirk. "Oh very clever," he said. "Trying to keep me busy with the 20 questions trick so that I end up getting caught in my own booby trap. Well I'm not falling for it. If you really want to know you will have to ask Theta Sigma when you meet him on the other side."

"And how is that going to help?" the Doctor exclaimed. "I'm Theta Sigma."

"Kill them quickly and then make for the exit if you want to live," the leader ordered the guards, ignoring the Doctor's remark, he turned and sprinted off out of sight.

The guard behind the Doctor lifted up his sword in preparation for a blow that would almost certainly decapitate the Doctor. "Hold on!" the Doctor held up his arms defensively. "What about her? The only thing that is stopping her from attacking you is your threat to kill me, so if you kill me she will attack you and being the ruthless attacker she is probably kill you. I know she is not the best swordsman, well actually she knows nothing about sword play, but she is determined and does at least know the first rule of swordsmanship."

"Do I?" she asked. "What's that?"

"Stick them with the pointy end," the Doctor replied.

She looked at the sword closely. "Oh yeah..."

The guard looked back and forth between the Doctor and his companion. The other guard grew impatient. "We haven't got that long!"

The guard nodded and finally decided on Broxa first, the Doctor leaped to his feet the instant the guards back was turned but quickly felt the point of another sword on his back. "Don't try anything now," the guard holding Singh warned. The Doctor watched helplessly as the guard advanced on Broxa, all hope seemed lost.

"It'sss time," Singh said suddenly. Everyone stopped and turned to him. "Time to ssed the sskin of adolessensss, and asssend to adulthood."

The Doctor watched with wide eyes, a huge grin plastered over his face. He had always wanted to see this, he imagined it must be an amazing transformation, and he wasn't wrong. Singh thrashed about wildly and spat and hissed as if he were in great pain. His skin stretched and tore in places while the body underneath suddenly started to outgrow it. Just below the guard's hand, amongst the Salazar's webbing, two bulges started to appear on opposite sides of the body, the same happened lower down his body at the point where the tail joined onto the rest of the body; a point that, like with the snakes of Earth, was normally invisible to the casual observer, in this case it was suddenly very visible. The bulges got larger and larger until the skin suddenly burst open and out popped four new limbs; the upper two were skinny arms while the bottom two were legs.

"Amazing!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Twelve out of ten, no make that thirteen. That has got to be the most brilliant thing I have ever seen."

Singh flexed his new limbs and shook off his excess old skin. The guard that was holding him came out his trance and moved his sword to cut Singh in half before he could try anything. Unfortunately he was too slow, Singh swiftly unsheathed his two swords that fit perfectly into his new hands and swung them in an arc that sliced off the guard's hand that was wrapped around his neck. The guard screamed in pain, dropped his sword and clutched at the bloody stump where his hand used to be, only succeeding in contaminating the wound (though he didn't know that yet). Singh carefully extracted the hand from around his neck, pointed his swords at the remaining guard and hissed threateningly.

Now that the transformation was complete Singh looked very different. His scales were shinier and of a slightly lighter colour, he had also grown considerably larger and, of course, now had arms and legs. The remaining guard snarled and lunged forwards with his sword, the Salazar easily parried and rolled sideways so that he could attack from a different angle. While the guard had size and strength on his side, Sigh more than made up for it with his speed, agility, athleticism and skill, despite having never practiced before. Singh leaped into the air, rained several blows down on the guard that knocked him off balance. He followed this by rolling under the man's legs, slashing them as he went by. The guard went down onto one knee and was fighting a losing battle from that point onwards, he parried valiantly for a few seconds before Singh managed to land the killing blows.

"That, was, amazing!" Broxa enthused.

"The fight or the transformation?" the Doctor queried.

"Both," she replied. "How do you do that when you have never had arms or legs until now? Is it down to some sort of divine training?"

"We don't have time for that right now," the Doctor butted in. "But don't forget to ask him again later because I would like to know the answer myself. Right now we need to disable the booby trap that our fearless leader activated three minutes and twenty, no twenty one, no twenty two, no twenty... well you get the idea." He sprinted over to the control panel. "Now obviously if I hadn't given sonic to River, thank you very much fate, I would be able to fix it in a double heartbeat, but as it is I will have to do it the hard way." He inspected the control panel carefully. "You had better go and try to evacuate everyone, you only have one minute and fifty two, no fifty one, no fifty. Look what is the point in me giving hints like that if you are just going to ignore them. And that's another four seconds you've wasted."

Broxa and Singh finally took the hint and sprinted off down the corridor towards where the cells were. The Doctor examined the panel closely once more and came to the conclusion that he needed to open it up in order to rewire it. He patted his pockets but discovered that his penknife was not in there for once. "Do you know where I would be able to find my belongings?" he asked the guard that had lost his hand. The guard moaned some more but made no indication of a response. The Doctor sighed heavily. "No time to go and find it anyway." He punched the panel with all his strength, yelped in pain but quickly turned it into a cheer when he discovered that he had indeed succeeded in opening it up. "This will have to be the fastest rewire in history, I only have one minute and thirty, no twenty nine, no twenty eight, no twenty seven..."

* * *

><p>The leader of the Commune sprinted down the street, barely registering the fat man and skinny woman that he almost ran into. He was lucky, the thiefs had only just been. He saw the small bodies disappearing round a corner and sprinted on after them.<p>

Usahn and Ireenha were not completely sure what he was chasing but it seemed to be important."That wasn't the deal," they heard him shout. "It's ours now, you cannot take it from us now."

They crept up to the corner of the building but wouldn't dare stick their heads round in case they were spotted, they had to rely on their sense of hearing. "You do not need it anymore," a voice said. "You should be congratulated for looking after it for so long, but the time has come for me to take it back."

Usahn shivered with fear, it was exactly the same voice that had spoken through the Spawn that had tried to kill him and the Doctor. "Xkitor," he breathed. Ireenha looked at him questionably. "They're Spawns," he explained.

"You said we could keep it, you told us to keep it in fact," the leader continued.

"Yes, to prevent anyone else from getting their hands on it," the voice of Xkitor responded, "not so that you could stop me from getting my hands on it. It is mine after all."

"I'm not letting you take it," the leader growled.

"Would it be fair to assume that you would rather die than give it up?" Xkitor questioned silkily.

The leader hesitated. "Well-"

"I'll take that as a yes then," Xkitor interrupted. There was a sound of energy being discharged followed by an horrific scream that presumably belonged to the leader of the Commune. Xkitor laughed manically and then everything went silent.

After a few minutes Usahn and Ireenha finally plucked up the courage to look. There was nothing there other than the fallen body of the leader. They rushed over to him, Usahn rolling him onto his back and then putting his ear to his chest in search of a heartbeat. He could not find it. The leader of the Commune of True Thoruxans was dead.

* * *

><p>The Doctor had discovered that there were shelves full of personal belongings that had been confiscated from prisoners of the Commune. There was no obvious system to it, however, so it was not proving to be an easy job to locate all of his own personal belongings. He had found his hat, a yo-yo and the bag of jelly babies (although he didn't particularly want those so had discarded them again) and had decided to keep several other things, but was still struggling to find his penknife or the TARDIS key; and they were much more important, (even if he didn't actually need the key to get in it was always nice to have it on him most of the time).<p>

"Are we safe?" Broxa asked as she escorted the several former prisoners into the room.

"Possibly," the Doctor replied. "I think I have disabled the booby trap but we don't know for certain for another thirty seconds, twenty nine, twenty eight..."

"Why?" she interrupted. "What happens after that time?"

"That is when the booby trap is scheduled to go off," the Doctor explained.

"But it isn't going to go off is it?" Broxa questioned, slightly nervously.

"It shouldn't," he replied. "But you never know, I may have made a mistake, I could have merely forced it to happen sooner but that is unlikely or we would be feeling the effects by now. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." They waited for a few more seconds, but nothing happened. "Of course I could have also delayed it even further, no I'm just teasing you now, we're perfectly safe."

"Then we sssould get out of here," Singh said.

"Not until I find my knife," the Doctor turned back to his rummaging through the shelves. There was a sound of a scuffle behind him making him whip round to see what was going on. The overbearing woman seemed to have found his knife, she was stood all alone apart from the young Alisandra whom had the golden blade pressed against her neck threateningly. "Ah, there it is, I don't suppose you have found my key as well?"

"Reactivate the booby trap," the woman snarled.

The Doctor blinked in surprise. "You want me to activate the booby trap? You realise that that would kill everyone including yourself?"

"Of course, it is what we all deserve," she replied. "We are abominations, and you are fraternising with us. activate the booby trap!"

"Careful Doctor," Broxa warned. "She is being completely serious."

"Yes, I guessed as much, but thank you anyway," the Doctor nodded. "Is that really what you want or have you been fed the Commune's propaganda for so long that you have forgotten what you truly want."

"I will kill her," she snarled. "Don't think I won't."

"Ok, let's stop for a minute and think about the logic behind that previous statement. You're threatening to kill her, yet what you want me to do will end up killing her as well, so this whole _ do as I say or she will die _argument becomes redundant as what I will do will cause her to die anyway."

The woman frowned and suddenly seemed a lot less sure. "I'll still do it," she asserted.

"And prove them right," the Doctor countered, "but I suppose you already believe they are right anyway. How long have you been here for it to have become to ingrained. A couple of years, no far longer than that, you would be with those people who are happily clinging onto our prospect of escape. A decade maybe, or most likely since you were a child, the perfect age for this message to become ingrained, we are very impressionable as children..." the Doctor paused a thought suddenly striking him. "Or perhaps ever since you were a baby, leaving you with no memories of what life was like when those around you were not constantly mistreating you and calling you names."

"Shut up," she bit out. "Shut up, shut up, shut up." Tears began to stream down her cheeks. "What do you know, you're an outsider. They will never accept us, why should they?"

"Because you are Thoruxans just as much as they are," the Doctor replied.

"No we're not!" she screamed. "We're half-breeds, formed by their evil." She pointed the knife at Singh. Broxa took a step forward but was warned back by the Doctor.

"No you're not, that's just a lie that they told you," he insisted. "Look at Broxa, she is just like you but she is an outsider like me. The Salazars don't have space travel, they are grounded on this planet." She looked back and forth between Broxa and the Doctor frantically, he was winning her over, now it was time for the sucker punch. "You're name wouldn't be Alisandra would it?"

Her eyes widened in shock. She released her grip on the girl who ran over to the other former prisoners but didn't seem to notice. "How did you know?" she breathed.

"You remind me of a man who told me of a sister that he lost long ago," the Doctor explained. "He has spent his entire life fighting back against the Commune in hopes that he will be able to see her once again. I only tell you this because I am certain that that girl is you."

There was a clang as the knife fell to the ground, Alisandra would have followed it but the Doctor had quickly rushed over to catch her. The once powerful overbearing woman had reduced to bawling in the arms of a complete stranger.

"Broxa go and find the TARDIS key would you, this could take a while."

* * *

><p>Usahn jumped up the instant the Doctor appeared. He could tell that Ireenha was surprised he had actually come out, she had spent most of their time waiting explaining how they were wasting their time, but he had kept the faith. "Doctor," he said, "the leader-"<p>

"Don't worry about that now," the Doctor interrupted, "there is someone I want you to meet." He indicated the woman he was stood next to. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you lost your sister to the Commune because she had the Salazar's touch and have been searching for her ever since."

"Well I have mostly given up hope that I will ever find her actually," Usahn replied, "But that is correct."

"Her name was Alisandra?" Usahn nodded again. "Well then I believe that I have found her. Alisandra, this is your brother Usahn."

Time seemed to stand still as Usahn slowly turned his attention onto the woman beside the Doctor. They stared at one another with wide eyes. "Alisandra?" Usahn breathed.

"Right I'll leave you to catch up," the Doctor said, he turned to Ireenha. "You said something about the leader?"

Ireenha nodded and beckoned him round the corner. "We aren't that sure what happened exactly," she said. "But Usahn reckons that it was something to do with some Spawns. They had taken something from him that he wanted back and when he wouldn't give it up they killed him."

The Doctor knelt down beside the Commune leader's fallen body. He examined the man's eyes carefully, closing them afterwards out of respect, then twisted his head so that he could look down his ear. Satisfied that nothing unusual had happened there he gently massaged his hands across the rest of his body, much like a first aider searching for any injuries.

"He has no external tissue damage, but I think..." he placed his ear against his chest and tapped the body up and down seemingly at random. "Yes, his insides have been scrambled. What do you suppose was so important that he ended up getting killed for it?"

"It was something that err Xkitor? Yes Xkitor had asked him to look after," Ireenha explained. "Could be anything though."

"Something that Xkitor had asked him to look after?" the Doctor exclaimed. "Well no wonder he killed him for it."

"Why what is it?"

He was angry now. "Why is it that these people always agree to do these things?" he ranted. "If some disembodied voice asks me to do something I would run away screaming, I wouldn't go, _yeah alright, that seems fair, I don't see this going wrong in any way at all_. Stupid xessing idiot!" he jumped to his feet and stomped back round to where the rest of the group was gathered.

"We do not have much time," he said. "Xkitor will be rising and... well actually you two don't have to come, you can stay here and look after the unfortunate. Singh could you direct me and Broxa to the temple?"

"Why, whatsss happening at the temple?" Singh questioned.

"That is where Xkitor is, and we don't have time for questions," the Doctor explained hurriedly. "Now that he has the component there is nothing to stop him from returning."


	46. Evil 7

_[flashback]_

Theta Sigma and his female companion stood side by side on a sand dune. Behind them, about a mile away, was the town they had spent most of the day in but they weren't interested in that right now. In front of them a massive temple stretched up into the sky. It was square based, starting very wide at the bottom and getting narrower as it reached the top, very much like a pyramid of Earth. Not an Egyptian pyramid, this was more like an Incan or an Aztec pyramid for the temple did not narrow into a point, it was flat on top. The corners were not sharp either, they were completely smooth, it looked like they were pillars made of a brown rock, completely contrasting with yellow stone that was used on the rest of the structure.

Not content with simply decorating the building with pillars and arches the designer had also decided to paint many pictures on the sides. It was difficult to make out the stone underneath such was the intensity of the artwork. Theta could make out a couple of adolescent Salazars eating the others tail to create a perfect circle, a group of Thoruxans crossing sword, several large rings, in fact a lot of the work was orientated around circles. There was such a mishmash of different images it was hard to make out most of the individual images, the exception was the very top. A dark shadow spread across the upper part of the building, it was that of a misshapen entity, all tentacles and claws and a strangely smooth cylindrical mouth out of which yellow fire was being expelled; whenever the fire touch the image of a living creature that image was shown to burn with a yellow glow, its skeleton perfectly visible.

"Considering that Xkitor is supposed to be their Beelzebub they do seem to be glorifying him a lot more than you would expect," Theta commented. His female companion remained stubbornly silent. "You are not still upset with me are you Dominica? I wasn't to know that my offhand comment about there being a citadel overlooking the town was going to turn out to be correct. And I'm not actually completely correct either. That's a temple, not a citadel."

Dominica shrugged. "It's just depressing," she said. "We come from a world where the upper classes live in a large citadel that overlooks the dingy villages of the lower classes, the first planet we come to the lower classes live in a dingy little town under the watchful gaze of this great big building that is not unlike a citadel. I always imagined that the universe would be filled thousands of different worlds with completely different cultures, but this is suggesting that we are all exactly the same."

"What are you saying?" Their guide demanded. "You do not like my town?"

"Oh I wouldn't worry about her," Theta said casually. "She dislikes most things. She doesn't even really like me, she was just using me to get out of Gallifrey."

"That's not true," she exclaimed.

"Doesn't matter my dear, I quite enjoyed it actually," he cut in. "Shall we go inside, see if Xkitor is still sleeping. Who knows, we may even wake him up."

Dominica gave him a friendly shove that he returned in good humour. "You should not joke about such things," the guide said ominously. The Time Lords paid him no heed as he led them down the edge of the sand dune and towards the temple.

_[end of flashback]_

* * *

><p>The Doctor stood beside Broxa and stared at the temple in exactly the same way that he had with Dominica all those centuries ago. He wasn't sure whether he was stood on the same sand dune or whether they were looking at it from the same direction, but it was definitely the same temple. It may have looked completely different but he knew for certain that it was the same temple, for the majority of the damage was not down to natural wear and tear, it was down to damage that he had done himself.<p>

The entire building had collapsed in on itself, the four corners were still half standing but the top half seemed to have completely sunken into the bottom half and the very top was missing. The ornate drawings had worn away over time and rubble was strewn around all over the place. The Doctor had previously thought that the collapse of the temple had made it impossible for anyone to visit inside ever again; his current adventure seemed to be contradicting that thought.

"We're going in there?" Singh questioned.

"Twelve out of ten," the Doctor replied.

"You don't really think that there could be anyone in there do you?" the Salazar persisted.

"If the Doctor thinks anyone is in there then someone's in there," Broxa replied on his behalf. She wiped the sweat from her brow once more. "How can you stand the heat?"

"This isn't just another excuse to get your clothes off is it?" the Doctor questioned, only half joking..

"No," she shook her head vehemently. "I'm just noting your thick jacket and trousers."

"They aren't that thick actually," the Doctor replied. "Either way Time lords are very durable, we can survive for surprisingly large periods of time in incredibly harsh environments, be it hot or cold. I've even spent some time in the vacuum of space without a space suit. It almost killed me but that isn't the point. You notice that Lisa had to wear that thick jacket and trousers on Mondas, but I didn't."

"She thought Mondas was cold? Mondas isn't cold."

"Isn't it? You were the one who thought that Alnwick was boiling," he reminded her.

"Well it was," she replied.

"That's my point," the Doctor replied. "We all have different perceptions of heat. While at the time you may have not thought that Mondas was especially cold, but that is because you have lived there your entire life but Lisa was used to an environment like Alnwick so thought Mondas was horribly cold. Perhaps I should take you to Antarctica or the North Pole, see what you think of that. Although I would have to be careful when I go or fear meeting Woolly and Sarah, and that krynoid. Not sure which was worse, that or those Vervoids, probably the krynoid actually, that had the power to control all the plants, the Vervoids were just plants."

"Could we get on pleasss," Singh said impatiently.

"Quite right," the Doctor snapped back to reality. "Once more into the breach dear friends. Half a league half a league onwards. Warp eight. Have I missed any? No, of course you don't know, you're not from Earth, either of you." The Doctor strode purposefully on towards the temple, his companions following in his wake.

* * *

><p>"How much longer do we have to wait?" Triclops asked patiently.<p>

"Not long," Xkitor replied. "I estimate their arrival in 300 Rels."

Triclops halted in his pacing and looked towards the shadows questionably. "300 whats?"

"Someone has entered the temple," Xkitor suddenly exclaimed. "No one enters the temple, we are not ready."

"Who is it?" Triclops questioned.

"Theta Sigma," Xkitor growled. "Ka Faraq Gatri."

"Who?" Triclops questioned. "Do you mean the Doctor?"

"Who else would it be," Xkitor exclaimed. "He has come too soon, I am not ready to destroy him. Apparently the Commune didn't prove to be as much of a hindrance for him as I had first thought."

Triclops straightened up and puffed out his chest. "Well it's a good thing that we just so happen to have a top class assassin in our midst," he said proudly.

"Do we?"

"I'm talking about myself you..." he trailed off when he remembered who it was he was speaking to. "I could go and deal with him."

"Just like you did last time?" Xkitor questioned sceptically.

"We've been through that," Triclops argued. "That was as much your fault as mine."

"Very well, go out and do what you do best," Xkitor agreed.

Triclops started to stride towards the exit of the room but paused a couple of paces from the door. "Just to clarify, I have authorisation to go out and kill him," he said, "and nothing else."

"Of course."

"And, just so that I am completely clear, this job surpasses all other requests?" Triclops continued.

"Yes!" Xkitor shouted.

"So, for the sake of argument, if you summoned me back here halfway through my hunt I would be allowed to ignore that order in order to continue in my hunt for the Doctor?" Triclops persisted.

"Just go!"

"I'll take that as a yes," Triclops said casually, he turned and strolled out of the room. "I shall not return until the Doctor is dead, regardless of what you say."

* * *

><p>When the Doctor had last entered the temple it had been dark and ominous, the only light coming from the guide's flaming torch. It was no less ominous and even darker, but at least the scary images on the walls were no longer comprehensible. Not that the Doctor had been scared of course, no he was always quick to point out how unafraid he was whenever he had been forced to remember. The route was also a lot more treacherous with missing steps, holes in the floor, inclined corridors, debris strewn over the floor, debris occasionally falling from the ceiling and corridors that seemed to have completely collapsed in on themselves; though these were more annoying than actually treacherous.<p>

The Doctor held up his arm as they came across another steep decline into the unknown. "We're going this was that way forward and back, over the briny sea. A bottle of rum to fill my tum and that's the life for me, aha!" he sang. He had been singing this song ever since their first dead end, almost as if he was enjoying the fact that they were lost. "When I was nine I was moody and whined, the day I went to sea, I climbed aboard a pirate ship and the captain said to me: we're going this way that way forward and back, over the briny sea. A bottle of rum to fill my tum and that's the life for me, aha!" he had given up on following the exact words quite early on, making some of the verses apply himself in that life. Such as: _when I was three I was the Dandy _etc.

He skipped around a corner, hopping from foot to foot while Broxa and Singh caught up with him. "You could join in if you want," he said when they reached him. Singh hissed moodily, snatched the torch from the Doctor's hand and slunk on ahead. The Doctor and Broxa looked at each other and shrugged before following him. "When I was ten I wasn't called Ben-"

"Will you sssut up!" Singh cut in.

The Doctor made an ooh sound and smirked at Broxa. "Do you not like music Singh?" he asked.

"Do you really think that now isss the bessst time to ssssing a jolly tune?"

"There's never a bad moment to sing if you ask me," the Doctor shrugged. "When you are sad, singing can lift you back up. When you are nervous it can calm you down. It can amplify your happiness it can build tension, signify when a man is evil, psychotic or an action hero, make you laugh and cry and hammer on the ceiling in anger. You should never underestimate the power of music."

The Doctor left the Salazar to ponder on what he had just said and strode forwards into the darkness. Singh, realising that the Doctor was now going in blind, rushed forwards to keep up only to find the Doctor running back round a corner that he had just gone round.

"Ok that's the right way but we are going to have to find another way round," he said.

"Why?" Singh asked suspiciously.

As if to answer the question a stream of bright orange fire suddenly erupted across the corridor, illuminating the whole area like bonfire night. The Doctor had known what was coming and Broxa was experienced in tunnel navigation so they both obscured their vision the millisecond before it could fully ruin their night vision. Singh, however, was less experienced at working in the dark so was completely exposed to the sudden light. He was completely dazzled, dropping the torch to leave his hands free to cover his eyes. Once it faded away he was left virtually blind, he quickly unsheathed his swords.

"That won't do you any good against him," the Doctor said sensibly, "just run like we do."

Broxa quickly bent down to retrieve the torch before turning to run after him, Singh stood his ground for a few seconds before reluctantly turning to follow.

Triclops turned the corner looking like a dark wizard, the fire in the palms of his hands illuminating his face eerily. You would have thought that he would be too dazzled by the flames to be able to see properly, that would be true were he not wearing his goggles. His goggles were designed to filter out any blinding light and had many settings to ensure that this didn't adversely affect his sight. The current setting allowed him to see the body heat of his current targets. He blinked and fired off another stream of flames towards them but they were out of range. They could run but it was only a matter of time before he caught up once more.

The Doctor suddenly skidded to a halt for they had come upon the steep drop again. Broxa skidded but wasn't so good at stopping like the Doctor was so kept going until she tumbled over edge, barely making a sound as she disappeared into the darkness. He glanced back over his shoulder at the glow of the assassin's flamethrower.

"Certain death by fire or possible death by sharp rocks," he said to Singh who had also managed to stop in time, "tough choice."

"Not really," the Salazar replied and quickly dived down the slope.

The Doctor agreed that that was certainly the better option but he couldn't move. He stood there staring into the abyss, knowing that if he was to stand any chance of survival he had to jump now; before the assassin came in range with his weapon. He tried to psyche himself up, rubbing his hands together and exhaling heavily, but that did no good, he didn't have the nerve to jump. Maybe if he took a bit of a run up. He took a few steps back ran forwards and skidded to a halt before he could he could reach the edge. By now the assassin was visible, he was not one to waste time with catchphrases that, while making him look cool, often allowed targets the time to come up with a method to escape. He simply pointed his flaming palms towards the Doctor and unleashed twin jets of flame. The Doctor quickly turned and dived to the ground to avoid the flames. Half way through the leap he suddenly remembered that he wasn't in a flat corridor, started flailing his arms in a futile attempt to stop himself, but ultimately disappeared down the slope, screaming like a girl.

* * *

><p>Broxa had not died or become impaled painfully on sharp rocks, she was merely slightly rattled and had recovered quickly. Shining the torch around the chamber that she had found herself in she staggered further on. She discovered that it had no end, or not one that she could see at least, so turned to wander back towards the end of the slope to await the Doctor's inevitable arrival. She froze and trained the torch back onto the top of the wall, just below where it met the ceiling. Broxa was no expert on the structure of old temples like this but she was certain that they didn't normally have long power cables fitted onto the walls like this. Curiosity overpowered her caution.<p>

"Where are you going?" She paused and looked back, to see that Singh had just slid down the slope.

She pointed the beam of light onto the cables nearer his end. "I wanted to see where they go," she explained. "Don't look to be part of the original designs."

"No," the Salazar agreed. "Sssomeone hasss fitted them reessssently. Sssskitor most likely."

"We're on the right track then," she commented. "Isn't the Doctor with you?"

"He wasss right behind me," he said uncertainly. They both looked up the slope for any signs of a falling time lord.

"You left him up there?" Broxa exclaimed, "with the assassin!"

"We were milesss ahead of him," Singh justified, "he ssssould have been able to esscape in time." They waited for a few more seconds in silence. "Why didn't he jussst jump? There wasss plenty of time."

Just as Broxa was about to give up hope they heard a noise, a bit like a man screaming, getting louder and louder. Eventually a man came into view, rolling down the slope uncontrollably. He landed at the foot of the slope, sprawled in a heap and gibbering in fear.

"Doctor?" Broxa realised, though she couldn't quite believe it.

The Doctor, for that was indeed who it was, slowly lowered his arms from his face and panted heavily. "Guessing I didn't die then," he said with a grin once he had fully recovered. "Either that or Jack was lying about there being no after life."

His companion immediately leant over and hugged him tightly. "I thought we had lost you," she whispered in his ear.

"So did I for a minute," he replied, not exactly hugging her back, "a second later and the assassin would have got me. On the bright side he would have cooked me perfectly, unless you prefer your meat rare of course."

"What took you ssso long?" Singh interrogated.

"Was I really that long?" The Doctor questioned dubiously.

"Yes," Broxa said emphatically, releasing her grip on him. "We thought he had killed you."

He suddenly glanced back up the slope and jumped to his feet. "We need to get moving, the assassin shouldn't be far behind." He immediately began to sprint off into the darkness.

"Isss he alwayssss like thisss?" Singh asked.

Broxa glanced back up the slope and then back down the dark corridor in which he had disappeared. He certainly hadn't acted in any way that she had seen before. She didn't reply, not wanting to really admit she was concerned, she just started to sprint after him. "Doctor! Wait!" She shouted.

For some reason the Doctor did not slow to allow them to catch up. A selfish act of self preservation perhaps or a deliberate chance to clear his head after the traumatic ordeal he had faced. Either way he was not slowing and had left no clue as to which way he had gone when Broxa and Singh also came to the fork in the corridor.

"Left or right?" the Salazar asked.

"The cables go left," Broxa pointed to them with the torch, "but he won't have known about them. he could easily have gone the wrong way."

"Ssso you don't know then," Singh summarised. She nodded in response. "I'll go thiss way." Before she could stop him he suddenly darted down the right hand fork.

"You want me to go left do you?" She shouted after him. "Well I'm not doing it you xessing idiot, the assassin will just pick us off one by one, we should stick together! It's bad enough he has abandoned us without you doing the same!"

"Words of wisdom indeed." She whipped round at the sound of the voice. It could only be one person. The assassin.

His hands were curled into fists and he was regarding the former cannibal leader with an expression that she was all too familiar with, even if his eyes were hidden behind goggles. It was the gaze of a predator, calculating how much of a fight its cornered prey was going to put up.

He did not consider her a threat, otherwise his flamethrower would be armed, but he recognised that she was far from helpless. She was not quaking in her boots, like so many before her, instead she seemed defiant, almost daring him to make a move.

"You are not of this world," he said simply.

"Neither are you," she replied.

"I have a purpose," he countered. "You are just another of the Time Lords lambs, following him into slaughter. What is it about him that makes so many forget their caution and follow him so recklessly?"

"I understood you were here to kill us," Broxa replied, "not talk at us."

The assassin shrugged, uncurling his fingers subtly. "Merely curious as to whether the Doctor realises that this little lamb is actually a wolf in sheep's clothing," he said. "You have great potential, I can see that, and I know that Sundew is no more. I needn't be the last assassin, if you see what I mean."

She cocked her head to one side. "You want me to join forces with you and help you kill the Doctor?"

"You are tempted," he noticed. "You clearly are from a planet where the opportunist is king. Your alliance with the Doctor is one of these acts of opportunism."

She shook her head. "The Doctor's my friend," she said.

"That is a shame," he sighed. "You could have been great." He brought his fingers down in preparation to rub the tips along the palm of his hands and in doing so arm his flamethrower once again. She may have been good, but there was no way that she would be able to survive this.


	47. Evil 8

Triclops had made mistakes in his time, it was impossible not to have done so in his long career. The trick was to ensure that these mistakes didn't prove to be fatal and never make them again. Others would proudly boast about how they had never made a mistake, even if they were telling the truth it would make them reckless making their first one fatal error in most cases, but Triclops never would boast like that. He made sure that his clients always knew what they were getting so that they were never disappointed.

Despite this he was quietly proud of the fact that he had not allowed himself to make any mistakes for years. He had maintained this record through caution and cunning planning, he never let his guard down, he never charged into a suicidal situation and never told his colleagues the whole truth, ensuring the minimum opportunity for betrayals.

So when the Salazar's swords had flown through the air and sliced off his fingers before he could activate his weapon he did not feel any shock from the surprise attack or the pain from the attack, he just felt despair. The despair of knowing that he had allowed his guard to drop. The despair at realising he had made his first mistake in years and that this mistake was almost certainly going to be the death of him. But most of all he felt the embarrassment that he had fallen into the trap that all assassins had fallen into, he had become arrogant. He was no better than all those others that he had always insisted he was better than.

"Excellently done!" The Doctor exclaimed as he stepped into the limited light. He stooped down and picked up one of the severed fingers. "Bit of a flawed design really, a weapon that only works when the tips of your fingers activate it."

"To be fair I didn't take into account the eventuality of me losing all my fingers at once when designing it," Triclops gasped in response. "You only needed to take the tips off!"

"That's what I like to call playing safe," the Doctor replied. "And well done Broxa, you played your part perfectly."

"Played my part?" She exclaimed. "You abandoned us, don't try to pretend it was all part of a plan!"

"Of course it was part of my plan," he scoffed.

"You xessing liar!" She retorted.

"That is true I suppose," the Doctor admitted. "I have told many people facts that were not true. That doesn't mean I am lying now though."

"You are though," Singh piped in. "You only came up with it after I found you."

"No that was when I first realised that it was part of the plan," he countered. "Up until then I was as clueless as the rest of you."

"What shall we do with him?" Broxa asked, bringing their attention back to the assassin.

"You should kill me," Triclops said matter-of-factly, "that's what I would do were I in your position. You're not going to though, that much is obvious." He looked at Singh. "You agree with me," he turned to Broxa again, "and you obviously come from a culture where it would be shameful not to kill me. But he," now he turned to the Doctor, "won't, and his vote counts for five apparently."

"You make it sound like a bad thing," the Doctor said in response. "A kindly man that saves the universe three times before breakfast... Oh, that reminds me, I haven't actually eaten anything since that restaurant on Earth and that was only some bread. I also have this feeling that someone may well have eaten my steak as well, and I was really looking forward to that. I do keep finding jelly babies in my pocket, but as much as Woolly and a couple of the others liked them I have found that I do not. I don't suppose you know anywhere good to eat in the middle of town? After I have beaten Xkitor obviously."

"What was the point you were trying to make?" Triclops questioned, completely thrown by the sudden change in subject.

"I think my hunger is a bit more important than explaining that the practical applications of keeping a prisoner alive include allowing you to later interrogate them on the information that they know," the Doctor retorted.

"Not forgetting your pity for those who are defenceless," Triclops taunted, "The number of people that you have spared but have promptly gone on to betray the kindness that you showed them. The Chieftain of Kalajura Seven for example, Kovarian, both times, and, of course, Xkitor himself. Had you chosen to destroy him when you had the chance rather than simply trapping him you wouldn't be here now!"

"How is it that you all know so much about me?" the Doctor exclaimed. "The Pilot Fish Queen knew a lot about me too. Is there a course on me at the University of Europa or something."

"You are a person of interest," he explained. "We all had to learn about you during training."

"Fair enough."

"Makes no odds to me what you do," the assassin continued. "I have failed but by now the Spawns may have delivered the component to Xkitor."

The Doctor's eyes widened contributing to his sudden look of horror. The assassin smirked at this reaction. "You had better move fast, I don't know how near he is to doing whatever it is he needs to do."

"Where is he?" The Doctor demanded. "Don't say he's in the temple, we know that much, just tell us how to get to him."

"We already know that," Broxa butted in.

The Doctor turned to her in surprise. "Do we?"

"Yeah, just follow those cables," she pointed out the cables running along the wall.

"We haven't got much time," the Doctor asserted. "We need to go."

"That way leads to the energy leech certainly," Triclops butted in. "But how do you know that that is the quickest way to Xkitor himself."

The Doctor looked down on him as if he were an idiot. "Xkitor will be right next to the energy leech," he said, "it wouldn't be much use if he was somewhere completely different."

"What do I know," Triclops shrugged, "I only work for him. But I do know that when the leech was initially used it was not to awaken him, it was to awaken the ancient Spawns."

"I ssall check this way," Singh announced and had disappeared down the opposite corridor before the others could stop him.

"No you fool, he's trying to confuse us," the Doctor called after him. "And it has worked," he added after realising that Singh hadn't heard. He turned back to the assassin. "You do realise that upon Xkitor's release he will rain destruction down on this entire planet, start war on the entire universe and in doing so slaughter billions."

"Of course I know what he's going to do, but I'm trained to ignore all my employers negative points," he shrugged.

"What can he possibly have to offer you in payment?" The Doctor exclaimed. "He's been trapped in a hole for three millennia."

"Not money granted," the assassin agreed. "A Lordship, I get to become governor of a chosen planet. Not going to be able to continue being an assassin for much longer. That would be a very attractive retirement, and not many assassins get to enjoy a retirement."

The Doctor nodded in agreement. "Yes, very tempting indeed. Except that it isn't going to happen now is it. Now that you have failed miserably."

"Oh I don't know," Triclops shrugged, "now that the Salazar isn't here..."

Before he could allow the sentence to sink in he propelled himself upwards, head butting the Doctor nastily on the chin. His tongue shot out revealing its true nature, long and thick and covered with sharp, curved, white spines; a perfect alternative to teeth. It is a little known fact that the strongest muscle in the human body is actually the tongue and this is no different in Triclops' species. His thorny tongue swung round like a mace and struck Broxa on the cheek. The torch she was holding went flying, blurring all vision of what happened to her after this; but she didn't seem like getting back up again in a hurry.

Triclops placed the palm of his mutilated hand up against the wall and dragged it forwards in an attempt to create enough friction to arm his flamethrower again. Before he could succeed he was tackled from behind and brought to the ground. He wriggled out of the grip and kicked his unknown assailant who grunted manfully, demonstrating that it was the Doctor. He frantically tried to arm his weapon again by rubbing his palms along the floor but the Doctor quickly jumped on him to stop him.

What followed was a scrappy melee. Both men would roll about, throw punches and kicks at one another, Triclops would attempt to light his flamethrower from the friction of the ground but the Doctor would always stop him. Even those his hands were mutilated the pain was something that he had suffered many times before and worse. It did not hold him back, he still had his knuckles which could punch with great rigour; just not as greatly as before.

He caught the Doctor in the jaw sending him to the ground and followed through with a stomp that would have crushed his stomach had he not rolled out of the way. The assassin quickly turned to the wall to rub his palms against it once more but was tackled round the waste before he could even start this time. There was one weakness in the Doctor's attack, Triclops noticed that while he himself was doing his utmost to kill the Doctor with each strike the Doctor himself was merely trying to subdue him. A mistake that would prove costly, Triclops was certain, in holding back he was gifting the assassin the chance to take the upper hand.

He threw two punches that were easily blocked and swept his leg in attempt to take the Doctor's feet from under him. The Doctor easily jumped above this attack but was unprepared for what came next. Triclops swung his tongue again and was satisfied by the grunt when it hit its target. He tasted blood as it was retracted but didn't dwell on that, he slammed his palm across the wall with even greater intensity than before.

"Hah!" He cried in delight as he heard it finally ignite. No more fooling around, it was time to end this.

There was a sudden weight on his back and an arm that grabbed hold of his making his jet of flame fire harmlessly into the ceiling. The girl, Broxa. Clearly his lick hadn't subdued her as well as he had thought. He felt her legs curl around his body and her grip on his arm tighten. No matter. His antennae that was often mistaken for hair came to life, under his command, and twined around Broxa's hair, pulling her ever closer so that others could also twine through her hair or latch onto her neck, poke up her nose or into her eye. It was not his favourite way of killing people, but it worked, he felt them getting a grip around her neck and slowly start to squeeze the air out of her.

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain through several antennae, pain unlike any he had ever felt. He screamed and thrashed about but the girl's powerful bite would not loosen its grip. His other antennae loosened their grip on her and quivered on end in direct relation to his pain. His tongue came out and swung about at random, possibly trying to hit Broxa but never getting anywhere near her. Even through the pain Triclops saw a fist fly towards his face, somehow thrown at the perfect moment to avoid the flailing tongue. He didn't feel the pain as it smashed into his face, the pain in his antennae being too great, it was merely the last thing he saw before everything went black.

* * *

><p>The Doctor cursed and stuck his fist in his mouth as if he expected that to help with the pain, barely noticing as the assassin collapsed. Broxa untangled herself from his clinging antennae and stomped out the flame blazing on his right palm; it was a mercy that he was unconscious.<p>

"He get you?" She asked.

He looked down at his side. His jacket had mostly protected him from the assassin's sharp tongue but it had still cut a rather nasty gash in his flesh. Suddenly his fist didn't seem to hurt very much at all. He covered it with his hand, wincing as he did so. "Ironic, I spent most of this life wanting my regeneration to end but now that it has I wish it hadn't so that the bio-energy would heal me... Is that irony? I think it is. Answer us on a postcard."

"Me too," Broxa pointed to her bloody cheek with glee.

"Ooh," he hissed. "Does it hurt?" All he got was a shrug in response; it had been a stupid question really. "Singh!" He shouted back down the corridor. "It's not that way it's this way. We don't have much time!"

"You are correct," a mechanised voice echoed down the corridor. "In fact it would probably be accurate to say that you are too late. The component has been fitted and the last energy leech is under way."

"Xkitor," the Doctor breathed. Louder he said: "No, not too late, all I need to do is cut these cables," he pulled out his penknife, flicked open the blade and marched over to the wall where all the cables were. He merely touched one of the cables and he was forced to leap back and drop the knife in pain.

"You didn't think I would allow that to happen did you?" Xkitor mocked.

"People have done stupider things," the Doctor shrugged. "Or should that be more stupid, I don't know, the English language leaves so many options to choose from."

"Do you mean to frighten us?" Broxa demanded. "For all we know you could be bluffing, is that right? Yes, bluffing!"

"Um I don't think he is bluffing Broxa," the Doctor cautioned. "His kind are not well known for partaking in mind games."

"The Doctor seems terrified of you but I have seen nothing to support that," she continued as if he hadn't said anything, "you are just a xessing voice hiding in the dark using pathetic underlings to do your dirty work."

"She is genuine," Xkitor said in amusement, "she really has no fears. Perhaps you would like to see one of my pathetic underlings."

"Do your worst," Broxa challenged.

"You really shouldn't say that because he really will," the Doctor said wearily, not really expecting her to heed him. She was going to have to learn, like all the ones before her, the hard way.

"I would like to come and meet you both myself, but alas I cannot fit down this corridor," Xkitor said. "I hope that my Spawns will not disappoint you."

On cue a shuffling sound started, like little legs scraping along a stone floor. The Doctor turned to his companion. "We should go," he said. She nodded in agreement, but neither made any move to leave. They were not really willing to give up just yet.

They were also slightly curious, Broxa as to what the Spawns actually were, and the Doctor about whether it would be one of the modern Spawn that looked just like a normal Thoruxan or one of the twisted, malformed ancient Spawn. A modern spawn he might be able to handle, especially with Broxa at his side, he was less sure about one of the ancient ones. They were indeed small and malformed but that seemed to work to their advantage. Due to Xkitor's continued failure to create a Spawn that could think for itself he was forced to control them directly, and if his memory served him correctly he did so very well in the past; coordinating several Spawns simultaneously in attacks that rivalled plagues of Cybermats for efficiency. In contrast the modern Spawn that he and Usahn had faced had seemed jerky and clumsy, possibly because of possessing a clearly defined body which Xkitor wasn't used to.

Broxa pointed the torch towards end of the corridor, creating a sort of spot light for the lead Spawn to step into. His hearts clenched. It was one of the ancient ones. It was almost impossible to tell what the creature had been originally, its size suggested it may have been a Salazar but it lacked a head or any limbs and the scales seemed to have been completely stripped back to be replaced with a very dark cyan organic membrane. There wasn't actually much body left, it was as if Xkitor had chopped off its head and tail leaving the core of the body, where all the vital organs were located, and nothing else; there were a few small protrusions to act as a reminder of the limbs that it once had, but considering how many there were and the odd shapes that some possessed this may have been an incorrect assumption. On the front of its ugly body was a large, out of proportion, lidless eye. It was not human, Thoruxan or that of a Salazar, but it was eerily familiar to the Doctor, golden on the outside and a greyish blue in the middle, unblinking and sewn in with ugly golden stitches, it seemed neither organic nor mechanical, simply an amalgamation of the two. Gold wire of the same tone as the stitched ran along its backbone and around its body like ribs, similarly to how it was arranged on the modern Spawn, and it had a thin tube, also coloured gold, slung underneath its body. To allow for mobility four crude legs had been created, long and spindly and also gold coloured they were attached to the gold coloured spine. They were thin and spindly making them appear flimsy, but the Doctor knew from experience that they were not.

It stared up at them with its unblinking eye and made a few more steps towards them, its movement was not unlike that of a spider. As it came forwards more Spawns came into view. No two bodies were exactly alike, several could have been Salazars once upon a time but their deformity and protrusions were never identical, a couple were unrecognisable for what they were originally, and one looked as though it may have been a man's hand at some point before its creation. The one uniformity was the gold wiring and legs holding them together and the single unblinking eye in their centre.

"We should go, _now_," the Doctor said frantically, he turned to move but found that Broxa was completely frozen. She just stood there stock still, staring at the oncoming Spawns, wanting to turn and run but finding that her legs were not obeying her.

He should have seen this coming really, her experiences in their conflict with the Dynasty was not something easily forgotten, he himself had just now barely got through a reminder of how Woolly had died. Her eyes were glazed over, no doubt remembering the many spiders jumping at her, and wrapping her in their sticky web.

"Broxa," he nudged her but got no response, he resorted to standing directly in front of her looking straight into her eyes. "Broxa you need to snap out of it. I know you're scared, I was scared earlier, that's why I was so long in jumping, but they're not the Dynasty. If you don't run now they will not hesitate to kill you."

She blinked and seemed to come back to reality steadily, slowly focusing her gaze onto his eyes. It was not a gaze that the Doctor could easily decipher, not aggressive or fearful like it had been before, not happy or sad but not emotionless. Before he could fully decipher the look she suddenly glanced at something over his shoulder and pulled them both to the ground, a red laser passing through the empty air where they had both been standing mere milliseconds earlier.

"You should run, but where will you go?" The voice of Xkitor asked mockingly. "You had to fall down a steep incline that is impossible for you to reuse. It is time you started to accept the inevitability of your defeat."

The lead Spawn pointed itself at them and fired. A sudden blur leaped in front of them and the energy was blocked.

"Singh!" The Doctor exclaimed. "Impeccable timing my friend. Did you really just block those energy blasts with your swords or do you have some sort of force shield that we don't know about?"

The Salazar held his blades in front of him threateningly never taking his eyes off the Spawns. "There isss a way out of the temple if you follow the other fork," he said. "Go! I'll hold them off."

The Doctor jumped to his feet and pulled Broxa to hers, carefully making sure that she wasn't allowed a good look at the Spawn again, he was certain she would freeze again. They turned and ran, simultaneously pausing a few steps later and turning to call for Singh to hurry. But it seemed that the Salazar was going to stick to his word and die to allow them to escape.

To be fair at the rate he was going it was more likely that he would kill all the Spawn before that happened. He was diving left and right to avoid blasts of energy and then cart wheeling through the air, landing on one of the Spawns' back and driving his swords into them. He had killed three Spawns in this way and quickly stabbed a fourth, which had tried to subdue him by jumping on him, through the eye. Another fired energy at him again and then more where it was expecting him to dive to in avoiding the first one, he instead stood his ground and crossed his swords across his chest causing the energy of the blast to dissipate itself through the blades and do him no harm; though he did slide backwards a couple of centimetres.

Xkitor finally seemed to lose patience. The whole temple began to shudder, gently at first but quickly escalated to a very high intensity.

"I shall ascend to the sky at last," Xkitor's voice declared, echoing out of all the remaining Spawns giving it an eerie resonance.

Singh stumbled under the vigorous shaking, holding his arms out in an attempt to balance himself. Xkitor took advantage of this moment of imbalance and had the nearest Spawn fire its weapon at him. Singh noticed this and allowed himself to fall over in an attempt to avoid it, but he was too slow. It only glanced off of his arm but that was enough to send him spinning away from them. The Spawns slowly began to advance, unaffected by the shaking but were not expecting what did stop them.

"Wha's going on!" Triclops slurred, sitting bolt upright and causing the Spawn that had been walking on him to be knocked onto its back. His tongue was half hanging out and as a result was slicing up his lips with every movement, he stared at the bloody hand that Broxa had stomped on. "Ow, wha happen?" He exclaimed.

Using this distraction to his advantage, the Doctor stepped forward, scooped up the fallen Salazar and turned to run. As he went he heard him moan softly: "I can't feel my arm."

"So good of you to join us Triclops," Xkitor said, "I assume that the Doctor has been dealt with."

"Eh?"

"No, of course he hasn't," Xkitor continued, voice dangerously level. "In fact, you just helped him to escape."

"Wha'? No!" Triclops exclaimed, "I'll geh him." He bravely struggled to his feet.

"Look at yourself, you are in no state to go hunting," Xkitor contradicted, in a tone almost of pity. "I think it is time you hung up you pistols, or whatever it is you use."

"I coul'n," Triclops slurred pitifully. "Ih's my lie, nee' finish firs'."

"Forgive me," Xkitor tittered, "I didn't mean for you to retire. It is time you were exterminated! Oh, it is so good to say that again after so long. Exterminate!"

The nearest Spawn fired directly at the assassin hitting him on the centre of his chest. He screamed horribly as his entire body glowed red making his skeleton visible like in an x-ray. As the glow faded Triclops became silent and collapsed forwards. The last assassin of Sundew was dead.

* * *

><p>Thoruxa Medio did not suffer from tremors, due to the crust being made up of one single plate, so the shaking of the temple was causing quite a stir. The large crowd included all areas of society, including the recently freed oppressed, but they were all so fixated with what was going on at the temple that no one said anything.<p>

The temple itself was vibrating like jelly on a plate, occasionally a chunk of it would fall off. An open archway high up on the nearest wall drew many eyes for it suddenly had a figure stood in it. It was difficult to make out any details from this distance but it looked like a he, and he was not moving. Suddenly he fell forwards and tumbled down the side of the temple, quickly followed by another figure who fell with more control.

"Is that the Doctor?" Ireenha asked. "And his friend: the prostitute," she added.

"Must be," Usahn replied.

The first figure had landed very ungracefully, flat on his face while the second landed on their feet. He jumped to his feet and started arguing with the other, she seemed indifferent simply striding away towards the crowd. The Doctor looked back at the temple just as the pillars started to split away from the rest of the structure, making it look like it was opening up like a flower. He put his hand on his hat, turned and fled towards the crowd, loose arm flailing.

As the Doctor and Broxa, Singh slung over her shoulder, made their way over to the crowd the Temple continued to fall apart. The archway that they had just exited from collapsed in on itself as that entire wall crumbled. The central peak that had sunken into the rest of the structure began to split open, the pieces sinking into the gaps created by the rest of the ruins disintegrating. The Doctor finally reached the crowd and turned just in time to see Xkitor rising from ruins.

Many people unfamiliar with the Doctor's adventures would be disappointed, but not the Doctor. He was as terrified as he had been ever since he had first seen one of his kind on Xkitor's home planet. He was a cyborg but looked merely like a machine, or a vehicle like a tank manned by a single person squashed inside. It was roughly cylindrical in shape, domed at the top, described by many as a giant pepper pot. Its base was covered in many domes dotted about like chicken pox but with much more order and control, there were no wheels or tracks or legs, instead there was a booster below the machine expelling fire downwards thus allowing it to hover and fly as it was doing now. The mid section was smooth and free to rotate, which was useful as this was where the weapon was located, a huge cannon positioned centrally at the front but twitched ever so slightly as if the owner was keen to use it. The top was a smooth dome below which was a black ring with lingering green glow, this was the creatures' eyes, it had full 360 degree vision at all times. Its colour scheme was mostly ivory coloured with gold for the domes of the lower section, the bottom skirting and the divide between each section, but it was far from brand new. Battle scars covered the entire casing in the form of dents and scratches, much of the ivory colouring had been scraped away to reveal a grey metal underneath and the gold had dulled to bronze.

"That's Xkitor?" Broxa exclaimed. "He doesn't look that terrifying."

"You should know never to judge things on their appearance," the Doctor gently chided. "I can assure you that he is truly terrifying, even more so than his brethren."

"What is he?" Usahn asked.

"He is Xkitor," the Doctor answered, "the Special Weapons Dalek."

* * *

><p><strong>DUN DUN DUUUN! <strong>

**Author's note: there is no trick this time, Xkitor really is the Special Weapons Dalek as seen in the 7****th**** Doctor adventure: Remembrance of the Daleks.**

**On another note, why is it that the best characters always die? I know I'm the writer and I get to choose who lives and who dies but I decided Triclops would die long before I got a chance to get to know him, now that I have finally killed him there is quite a bit of sadness, it's the Informant all over again :(.  
><strong>


	48. Evil 9: Genesis

**Author's note: My apologies for being late with my update again this week. As you are probably aware the Olympics is currently being held in my home country, yesterday I was stood at the side of the road shouting support for the British cyclists in their unsuccessful attempt to grab a first gold in our campaign (bloody Germans). I am here now though so we can finally find out what will happen now that the Doctor's greatest enemy has escaped from his ancient prison.**

* * *

><p><span>Genesis of Xkitor<span>

Xkitor, the Special Weapons Dalek, hovered in the air completely motionless. Some of the onlookers may have thought that he was enjoying the sensation of being outside after such a long time being trapped; but they did not know that he did not have any feelings. He had no eye stalk so it was impossible to tell exactly what he was looking at, but the Doctor was fairly certain that he was concentrating his sight on him.

There was a sudden commotion somewhere in the crowd. Several male Thoruxans were brandishing swords and holding them up in a form of salute. Spawns, the Doctor thought.

"Hail Xkitor," they intoned as one, they repeated this phrase several times before trailing off and laughing. "Sorry, couldn't resist. Quite a stupid thing to do really." They paused before continuing. "Confused? I don't blame you. This was never in any of the stories, men talking in unison proclaiming their love of the greatest of all evils. And even if it was, Xkitor isn't real is he?"

The Spawns went silent and a robotic voice echoed about the landscape. "Wrong!" It cried. "So very wrong! I am Xkitor!"

"Ten," the Spawns cried in unison.

"I offer you a choice," Xkitor continued, "you have the honour of being the first planet that will fall under my rule. Should you try to resist this inevitable change I shall be forced to use lethal force. Those who resist will be exterminated!"

"Nine," the Spawns stated.

"On the other hand, should you choose to bend your knees and pledge your allegiance to me then I will spare..." He trailed off and the Spawns began to laugh manically. "Who am I kidding, I'm still going to kill most of you!"

"Eight," the Spawns said, and it was at this moment that the Doctor realised what they were doing.

"Run!" He shouted. "Just run! Don't just stand there gawping, run!"

"Yes run away Theta Sigma," Xkitor mocked. "Run like you always do. Hide in your old 40s light stick and fly off out of here, what will running accomplish this time? My Spawns will only spread and overrun the planet. Countless worlds will be mine and you will lose all that you hold dear just like before. Maybe if you had been brave enough to stand tall you would have been able to ascend to presidency, save your friend from his impending madness, your family from wreak and ruin, your species and mine from the horrors of the war so bleak that even the Sontarans refused to get involved."

"Really?" The Doctor questioned. "I always thought that we had both refused to let them join in."

"That's what they want you to think," Xkitor replied, "that is the little lie that the Grand Marshall and his war council told their troops to avoid their shame. The reality is that they saw the horrors we were inflicting on one another, coupled with the anarchy of the many others scrabbling for power over the weaker systems that had been left unprotected in our personal struggle, they chose to stay out of it; the most sensible decision they ever made, even if it did allow the Rutans to take the commanding position in their war."

"Two," the Spawns announced.

The Doctor realised that in getting involved with this little discussion about the war with Xkitor he had allowed the countdown to drop to nearly zero; and most of the townsfolk were still stood there, not fully comprehending what was actually going on.

"Just run!" He shouted. "He's going to kill us all! Why do you people never listen to me?"

"You heard him!" Broxa pushed a group of people back toward the town, "run, xessing run!"

"One!" The Spawns shouted in unison and swung their swords in lethal arcs, cutting down those caught in the swing.

Only now did the people truly realise the seriousness of their situation. They screamed and began to flee in every direction without order, getting in one another's way, mistaking Spawns for true Thoruxans and being quickly cut down. A few, rather stupidly ran in the direction of the temple, most likely misunderstanding where the threat was coming from. As they came to the edge of the temple the ancient Spawns began to emerge; they were as merciless as the modern Spawns. Each Thoruxan screamed as they were each exterminated by the Spawns' red lasers.

Realising how little could be done the Doctor grabbed those around him and pointed them in the direction of the town. Those that listened took his lead and broke away, forging ahead of those others who had also sensibly chosen to flee towards the town. Quickly others began to realise the safest direction to take and took it, creating a mass exodus in the direction of the town.

"Zero!" Xkitor announced. There was a hum and loud zap noise as he fired his massive cannon. An orb of yellow energy exploded out of its end, making the Special Weapons Dalek fly backwards slightly from the recoil, it landed in the centre of the crowd and exploded engulfing a very large portion of the crowd in the yellow energy. They screamed horribly as first their skin melted away, leaving just their skeletons and making the scene look like they had all been exterminated simultaneously, and then as the energy began to disappear the skeletons were incinerated also. Only a fine black dust covering the burnt orange sand acted as a reminder that there had been people there seconds earlier.

Xkitor looked around admirably at the death toll that he and his Spawns had already stacked up. The Doctor and many others had escaped but Xkitor was not worried, he knew he would find them all and kill them. The Spawns lined up in a crude formation in preparation to march on the town. It was time for his conquest to begin, and not even Theta Sigma would be able to stop him this time.

* * *

><p>The Doctor and his party cowered inside a house panting to catch their breath. "I have failed," the Doctor said distantly. He wandered over to an armchair and sat down staring at nothing.<p>

"What do we do?" Broxa asked him.

"Nothing," he replied.

"We must be able to do something," she persisted.

"What sort of weaponry does this planet have?" The Doctor questioned. He was met with an uncertain silence. "What sort of weapons do the army carry? I saw that some of you have swords but is that the full extent of the weaponry you people have."

"There is no army," Usahn eventually answered.

"Does that answer your question Broxa?" The Doctor turned back to his companion.

"I survived on my own for... Ok I don't know how long for exactly, but I survived on my own in the caverns with nothing but my bare hands and wits for a long time," she replied.

"You didn't have to fight the Special Weapons Dalek," the Doctor stated.

"This is your fault," Ireenha said accusingly.

"You're right," he agreed taking them all aback, "it is my fault. I was young and arrogant, bored of the life I had on Gallifrey so I ran away. As Xkitor said, had I stayed I may have helped to stop things like this from happening. I could have ascended to presidency, properly, not just in a cunning ploy to defeat a group of power hungry aliens, but that's another story, one with surprisingly hazy details. Oh well, that doesn't matter. I could have prevented the war from coming and then Xkitor wouldn't have come to this planet."

"War?"

"Perhaps it is better if I start from the beginning..."

* * *

><p><em>I mentioned my home planet of Gallifrey. It is of little significance but it is important to know where I came from. It was a beautiful world with its burnt orange sky and the fields of red grass that are overlooked by the great citadel. Unfortunately we were not allowed to leave the citadel to enjoy this lush environment once we were enrolled into the academy, we were effectively prisoners in the capital. This and the whole stuffy attitude of the old councillors and propaganda fuelled students led to me deciding to leave. It wasn't unusual for people to want to leave, many a Time Lord over the decades had become a renegade, and the council had put in place many deterrents to prevent potential renegades from actually running. They made it so that people believed that the only way you would ever successfully escape Gallifrey would be in a group, and the chances of groups of like minded Time Lords all wanting to run at the same time was a lot less likely than individuals wanting to run. But I wasn't alone, I had a friend, I had Dominica.<em>

_Dominica and I stole an old and out of date time capsule, one scheduled for demolition so wouldn't be missed as we disappeared into the time vortex. The first place we landed was here, Thoruxa Medio. Everything seemed wonderful at first, with the freedom from the stuffy citadel back home and the lack of overbearing tutors, but then we encountered Xkitor. We had no idea what he was or what he wanted, but I knew that we had to stop him; I won't bore you with the details._

_It wasn't until I visited his home planet of Skaro, a couple of centuries later, Dominica had... She had gone by then, I was travelling with my Granddaughter and a couple of humans; that's another story though. It was on Skaro that I first encountered the Daleks and despite some differences I recognised them to be of the same species as Xkitor._

_Broxa, you may remember me mention that I consider the Cybermen as my third or second greatest nemesis, well the Daleks are definitely the worst. They have no individuality, aside from a few exceptions but let's not worry about them just now, they have no emotions aside from hate, they strive for perfection, hating all those that are not like them, and they are ruthless, cold-blooded killers; the perfect fighting machines. I have encountered them too many times to count, they always return, no matter how many times I put them down. This was all before Xkitor was born, or should that be grown, I don't know the correct terminology, and I began to think that maybe I had been mistaken, maybe Xkitor was not a Dalek after all; that was until the Dalek civil war that is._

* * *

><p>"Sorry," Usahn interrupted. "What are the Daleks exactly, you haven't been very clear."<p>

"You implied that they are machines but then say that Xkitor was born, as if they are living things," another that the Doctor didn't know the name of added.

"They are cyborgs," the Doctor answered. "A nuclear war caused them to mutate into twisted creatures which required a travel machine in order to move about. A mad scientist designed these travel machines based around his own wheelchair and also altered their DNA to make them more efficient killers."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"Ok, where was I? Oh yes the Dalek civil war..."

* * *

><p><em>After initially turning on their creator the Daleks found themselves in a war that they couldn't win, so they found themselves having to turn back to their creator in order to give them the advantage to win the war. Unfortunately for them he was more interested in retaking control over them than actually helping them and began working on ways to alter the Daleks again, but this time to ensure that they obeyed him without question. The new Daleks that he created became the Imperial Dalek faction, with him as the emperor, and they declared war on the others whom became known as the Renegade Daleks, though that is incorrect really, if anything it was the Imperials who were the renegades not the others; I sometimes wonder what the Renegades actually called themselves. Never mind, that doesn't matter.<em>

_The war was brutal, as all wars involving Daleks are, and served as a perfect demonstration of the Daleks' obsession with racial purity. There are very few differences between the two factions yet they hated one another. Quite ironic, Daleks abhor mutations of any kind yet they themselves are a result of a genetic mutation._

_The poorly named Renegades were proving to be superior, utilising far greater tactics due to their use of a battle computer. To turn the tide the Imperials created the Special Weapons Dalek, later known as Xkitor. The Special Weapons Dalek was supposed to revolutionise warfare, he had an enlarged cannon for greater firepower, lacked the normal second arm so that even more energy could be concentrated to the cannon, thicker armour to allow it to withstand more attacks than a normal Dalek and an alternate visual system to allow it continuous 360 degree vision and make it impossible to lose its vision; a problem that all previous Daleks had to endure due to their single eye on a stalk. The theory was perfect, but there was one problem that none had foreseen._

_In order to give this cannon its great power an alternative power source had to be used. While the source they found was successful in giving the weapon the great power they desired the radiation it kicked out had the unforeseen side effect of further deformity and insanity. Most of his scars actually came from the Imperials' countless failed attempts to destroy him before grudgingly accepting him. This didn't mean he was fully accepted though, he was shunned by his supposed allies and only used in battle as a last resort. It was on one of these occasions, one of the last battles of the civil war, that I saw him again for the first time since Thoruxa Medio and I finally truly knew who Xkitor was._

_I was careful never to face him, because I knew the consequences. When he was reawakened to battle against my people, the Time Lords, in the Last Great Time war he proved beyond doubt the power he possessed. I saw entire fleets fall after one single blast from his cannon, while the missiles that hit him dead on seemed to do nothing to him at all. Had the Daleks chosen to trust him completely they would have almost certainly won outright; for once the Daleks' prejudices acted in our favour._

_With every use of his weapon Xkitor became madder and madder. I don't know when he elected to give himself that name, whether it was before or after the formation of the Cult of Skaro or not I do not know, but that was the final straw for the Dalek Emperor. No not the creator, that was only for his Imperial Daleks during the Dalek Civil War, these Daleks were united under a true Dalek Emperor. Anyway, he, and the rest, decided that they could not work with him any longer. Sure he was winning every battle he took part in but as he became more deranged his enthusiasm for destruction increased, on more than one occasion turning and destroying his entire fleet simply because he didn't want the battle to end. Had the Daleks been tolerant of his further mutation they might have been able to curb his enthusiasm for destruction and concentrate it on us, instead they decided he needed to be removed. _

_It probably was the correct decision to be fair, as it stood at that moment they could just about control him, but it wouldn't be long before they lost control completely and he turned on them. It was my turn to face him when they did it. It was strange to watch, Daleks are not well known for acts of mutiny but it still happened. While they concentrated on blasting him out of the sky we just sat back and watched, allowed themselves to exterminate each other before swooping in and claiming victory for ourselves. We won that day, their forces scattered and Xkitor himself blasted into the Time Vortex presumed dead by all except me._

_I knew that he had crash landed on Thoruxa Medio centuries into the past where he was about to meet me on my first ever adventure. After I put him to sleep that time he waited patiently for my lives to slowly run out so that he could send the assassins of Sundew after me and reawaken once again. The last survivors of the Last Great Time War... Well you know the rest._

* * *

><p>There was a long uncomfortable silence following the end of the Doctor's long explanation.<p>

"You stopped him before," one of the Thoruxans said desperately, "surely you can stop him again."

"So that he can reappear after another three thousand years, when even my lifespan will have run its course, and do all this again?" He questioned. "Even if I could it's not the sort of trick that's going to work twice."

"Where did the Spawns come from?" Broxa asked.

"Oh he built them," the Doctor answered.

"Yeah I knew that," she said in annoyance, "but why did he make them? How did he know how to make them?"

"Oh right, he copied the concept from the other Daleks," he answered. "The Daleks had this habit of performing experiments on the inhabitants of planets, sometimes manipulating their genetic structure so that they would become strong but stupid slaves, other times, if they were intelligent enough, they would perform a process that retained their intelligence, either cloning to make a double or robotisation to create a Roboman. The doubles mostly acted as mercenaries or spies, they tried to turn me into one once so that I could enter the Time Lord capital and assassinate the President and his council, Robomen were more like foremen controlling the slaves and acting as a bridge between them and the Daleks. All could also act as foot soldiers.

"Xkitor has attempted to copy the robotisation because that does not require a complicated genetics lab or a cloning machine, it simply involves strapping an individual into machinery. The problem is that he isn't very good at it. In all his early attempts he ended up virtually killing all subjects in the process, he was forced to perform Frankenstein like surgery in attempts to bring them back to life, the results are those malformed spider like Spawns. He has got better since then, they now look like the species they were originally but they still have no intelligence on their own; he has to control them all remotely."

"How can he control them all at once?" Ireenha exclaimed.

"Because as mad as he has become he was and always will be brilliant," the Doctor answered simply.

"There must be something we can do."

"Not without any firearms," the Doctor said.

"What are his weaknesses? Perhaps there is something we can exploit."

The Doctor looked at the speaker in sadness. "He was specifically designed to remove the weaknesses that the rest of them suffer. Normally I would say to aim for the eyestalk, but Xkitor has no eyestalk, and even five Exterminator class starships attacking him at once couldn't crack his armour," he shrugged helplessly. "There is nothing I can do, I cannot leave to find reinforcements because the TARDIS is unlikely to find its way back here again in this time period so it will be too late, and I cannot stop him here with the resources I have available. I have failed."

He leant back in his chair and began to hum a tune. Broxa got up and marched up in front of him. "You're not giving up are you?" she demanded. He made no response. "You must have a plan, you always have a plan! You can't just give up!"

"It's the end of the world as we know it.  
>It's the end of the world as we know it.<br>It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine"

Broxa swung her arm as if to punch him in the face, but he caught her fist before it could connect. He stared into her eyes sadly. "What would you have me do? Walk out there and die? Yeah that's a good idea. But I suppose I'm never going to tell anyone in here any plans even if I did have one seeing as we have a Spawn in here."

Everyone gasped in shock twisting their heads round to look at one another. The Doctor jumped to his feet and began to pace up and down the room. "Someone in here is not to be trusted, a spy cunningly adding himself to our group so that Xkitor can have firsthand knowledge of what it is that I am planning. But which one of you people is it?" he looked around the room examining each and every face. "Is it possible to remove your veil at all?" he asked a woman with a veil covering a large proportion of her face.

"I couldn't possibly," she replied.

"Not at all? Even in this desperate situation?" he questioned.

"Look out!"

He spun round just in time to see a man brandishing a pistol from inside his robes. "How boring," the Spawn said. "You could at least try to come up with a way to stop me."

It lifted the pistol, pointed it at the Doctor's chest and slowly squeezed the trigger.


	49. Evil 10

The Spawn was suddenly hounded by nearly all of the Thoruxans, grabbing hold of him and pulling him to the ground. He was still able to fire his shot at the Doctor but it missed; the Doctor didn't even flinch. The pistol was knocked to ground and the Spawn was immobilised by a couple of strong arm locks.

"There's a wire on the back of his neck," the Doctor demonstrated by pointing to his own, "breaking that will disable him."

"Do what you like," the Spawn said, "this Spawn may fall but there are countless others and they w-" he suddenly became silent and slumped forwards.

"Right," the Doctor clapped his hands together, "we need to move camp, Xkitor is going to send countless Spawns to this location. Next-door will do, he won't expect that, leave that thing here, he can track it."

"Can I take his weapon?" Broxa asked.

"We had better take that weapon too," the Doctor said, "any extra firepower will be useful. Why don't you take it Broxa." She picked it up gleefully. "Careful where you point," the Doctor warned. "We don't want any accidents."

"I'll be careful," she scoffed. Perfectly on cue the pistol suddenly went off, a red laser flying out of the barrel and hitting the ceiling. Everybody jumped, including Broxa who slowly stared at it, baffled as to what had just happened.

"Let's go," the Doctor said casually, he was the only one not to have jumped or to dive for cover. "Don't do that again!"

"Ok," she nodded sheepishly.

As they cautiously moved onto the next house Usahn sidled up to the Doctor. "So what is the plan then?" He asked.

"There isn't one," the Doctor replied. "Were you not listening?"

"Well that was only for the benefit of the Spawn wasn't it," the Thoruxan pointed out. "You do really have a plan don't you?"

"Ah, ok the thing about lies is that if you want them to be believable you should always include an element of truth," he explained. "In this case the element of truth was that I don't actually have a plan."

"Oh," Usahn said in disappointment. "So what was the point in lying then?"

"Well if Xkitor believes me he will think I have given up and underestimate me, or he will not know what to think," the Doctor explained, "he will be in the dark about my plans and how close I am to coming up with one so will remain cautious. Either scenario is beneficial."

"I see," Usahn replied, "but you will come up with a plan won't you."

"Twelve out of ten," the Doctor grinned. "Just give me a little space to think."

Usahn obliged, directing him to the corner of the room where a very comfortable looking chair was located. The Doctor put his fingers on his temples and hoped that he didn't look as nervous or worried as he felt; for the reality was that the fact that he had lied about was the fact that he had been lying.

* * *

><p>The Spawn marched awkwardly down an empty street. It had its sword slung over its back and had a pistol brandished in one hand; this was because Xkitor preferred to exterminate with a laser, it wasn't the same when he used the sword. He made the Spawn turn a corner and saw a Thoruxan, catching her breath after having run from the massacre back outside the temple. She turned, saw the Spawn, screamed and immediately began backpedalling. In her haste to get away she tripped over her own feet.<p>

Xkitor giggled at this display and made the Spawn advance further. "No," the Thoruxan cried, "please! I have a family and children."

"Oh why didn't you say so earlier?" Xkitor said through the Spawn's mouth. "That makes all the difference."

"Really?" she questioned, hope blossoming in her eyes.

"Of course not," the Spawn replied casually, raising the pistol. "Good bye."

Before it could fire it suddenly lost vision in one of its eyes, recoiling backwards from the force of some blow. Before it could recover and look to see what had happened the vision was lost in the other eye. Xkitor made it fire its pistol wildly, he heard the Thoruxan scream but that didn't necessarily mean that he had hit her, until he suddenly had no more control over the Spawn. It did not matter, the loss of the occasional Spawn was to be expected. He didn't expect it to happen so suddenly with no clue as to how it had happened, however, one of the ancients wasn't far away, he would send that one to find out what had happened, and deal with it.

The Thoruxan slowly removed her hands from her tear stained eyes to behold the scene in front of her. The Spawn was on the floor dead, its throat had been slashed open and there was a small grey arrow in each eye. Stood over the corpse were two small reptillilian creatures with thin bodies and thin arms, each one brandishing a bloody sword. Salazars, the Thoruxan realised, suddenly the idea of a quick death at the hands of the Spawn sounded quite attractive.

"That ssslass wasss completely unnessesssssary," one of the Salazars said, pointing his slightly curved sword towards another slash across the Spawn's chest, "he wasss already dead."

"No," the other, with his thin, straight sword, shook his head. "He ssstill flailed about."

"Death throes," the first scoffed. "He died no more quickly becosssss of your attack. It ssstill countss ass my kill."

"How? I finisssed him off!"

"It doesss not count if he wasss already dying from the previous ssstrike."

The Thoruxan realised that they probably hadn't noticed her so took the opportunity to disappear quietly while they argued. She turned to crawl away from them and found herself face to face with another one. She recoiled in shock.

He was different to the other Salazars, while they were completely yellow he was covered in large splodges of purple; so numerous and large that very little yellow was actually visible. It was most likely a form of war paint seeing as there was the occasional misshapen splodge and some that were darker than others, trailing long drips across lighter ones. His neck was also slightly different, it had many folds in it as if the skin was too big in that area for the body underneath. Perhaps this was a sign of age, he certainly seemed larger than the other two and had a menacing looking scar across his face; splitting his lip. The thing that was really unique about him, however, was the weapon he carried. It was not a sword, it was a bow, and strapped across the back of his leather jacket were several grey, metal arrows, exactly like the ones that were sticking in the Spawn's eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" The Salazar asked. She blinked, failing to understand the question, so he inclined his head towards an empty street behind him.

"You're letting me go!" She realised with surprise.

"I didn't realise you were our prisoner," he replied casually. It was clear that he had studied the Thoruxan language closely for he didn't even hiss on the 'S's. "If you are, I release you. Go home to your family."

She stood up slowly and jogged towards the street, pausing briefly to shout, "thank you," back at him.

"Be ssure to tell them all," he replied with a slight smile, "the Salazars are back."

Once she was gone he turned to his brothers in arms. The argument had become quite heated and may not be long before one attacked the other, he decided to bring a stop to it.

"Lihn," he said, "I don't think that your cut is deep enough to prove fatal."

Lihn pointed his straight sword at him. "Rubbisssss! I killed him!"

"No you didn't," the purple one said, completely unfazed by this show of aggression. "You just scratched his skin. I think that Rihn gets this one."

Lihn stared at him for a few seconds before lowering his sword. "Yesss chieftain," he said humbly.

"Any word from Ekhan's warrior?" Rihn asked, slinging his curved sword over his shoulder.

"Not since he disappeared into the Temple," the Chieftain replied.

"Ssstrictly between uss three," Lihn said conspiringly, "did you know that this would happen."

"I have heard all the same stories that you have."

"That doesss not ansssser the quessstion," Rihn pointed out.

"Well then," the Chieftain said. "Strictly between the three of us... What I did and didn't know iss not your concern! If you need to know I will tell you, until then you will continue with your assignment until I tell you otherwise!" As he shouted this his neck flattened and the folds of skin unfolded and stretched into the new shape that the neck had taken. The new shape of his neck made him look very much like a cobra and made him seem very scary to the two Salazars in front of him; they bowed their heads and murmured apologies. Satisfied that they had learnt their lesson he allowed his neck to return to normal.

He was about to send them back on their duty when he heard movement on one of the roofs above them. A glance up made him recoil in shock. "Spawn!" He cried. As quick as lightening he had pulled out an arrow and loosed it right into the centre of its eye.

It recoiled and thrashed out wildly, firing its laser at random; more out of hope than expectation. The laser blasts came closest to Rihn, who had unsheathed his sword, forcing him to take cover. This freed Lihn to jump up the side of the wall and finish it off.

"I make that one - one," he shouted back down.

"Thiss iss not a game!" The Chieftain shouted back up, flattening his neck in aggression once more. "Our presence hass now been revealed thanks to your little game! And I don't know what you're smirking for Rihn, you're just as bad!"

"It may not have ssseen usss," Lihn pointed out. "You were on it the sssecond it appeared. I'll keep watch in casssse any otherssss are nearby. I'm not sssaying you ssssouldn't alert the other tribesss, you could be right, but you could alssso be wrong."

The Chieftain listened to what he had said respectfully, that was the sort of man he was, allowing his neck to shrink again. "Better safe than sorry," he muttered. "Rihn, you watch over there."

Rihn nodded and moved over to the other side of the street to act as sentry, the Chieftain pressed and held a button on a communicator device that he wore on the side of his body.

"Arbohk to all Chieftans, information, pause," he said into the speaker.

"Ekhan receiving," a voice replied.

"Boahn receiving," another replied.

"Nehgro receiving," a third said.

Four more voices identified themselves and informed that they had heard and were awaiting his information. Once all the seven other Chieftains had replied Arbohk explained his situation.

"Arbohk to all Chieftains, we have taken down two Spawns, I say again, we have taken down two Spawns. One was modern and the other was ancient. It is likely the ancient one saw us before it was dealt with, I say again, it is likely the ancient one saw us before it was dealt with, pause."

"You're a fool Arbohk," one voice replied.

Arbohk rolled his eyes before sending is reply. "Arbohk to all Chieftains, I cannot recognise any responses without correct call-signs, pause."

"Ekahn to Arbohk, I assume you realise the damage this will cause, pause."

"Vehna to Arbohk, I concur, pause."

"Nehgro to all Chieftains, it makes no matter, we merely have to advance to stage two sooner than expected, pause."

"Arbohk to all Chieftains, we may be wrong, this is a precaution. Do we have collective agreement to proceed to stage two? Pause."

"Aye," one voice, possibly Nehgro again, replied.

"Aye," another one agreed.

Arbohk waited patiently as all the remaining Chieftains slowly agreed to back the proposal. Only one was reluctant, Arbohk guessed it was probably Ekahn, he grudgingly agreed but not without criticising Arbohk heavily for allowing this to happen.

"Arbohk to all Chieftains, understood, stage two commencing, end."

As he ended his communication with the other Chieftains he discovered that Lihn and Rihn were staring at him. "What ssort of ssentriess do you call yoursselvesss?" He shouted at them hissing and flattening his neck again. "Keep watch!"

They hurriedly twisted round to survey the scenery. Nothing was in sight so they chanced a glance back at their Chieftain. "Are we really going to march into war?" Lihn questioned.

"We are," their Chieftain replied. "Why the misgivings? You seemed to be enjoying taking down the Spawns earlier."

"They were sssmall ssskirmisses," Rihn answered. "Warsss are different."

"Are they really?" Arbohk questioned, in the manner that a philosophy professor would ask a question.

"Yesss," Lihn replied. "Chaosss, dessstrucsssun, sssuffering. Ssskirmisses are fun, but no good comesss of war."

"And when have you ever been in a war?" The Chieftain questioned.

"We all learn about them," Rihn replied. "Hundredsss dying in pain and sssuffering without a chansss for honour or even ssseeing the enemy, and for no apparent reassson."

Arbohk liked this answer, it proved to him that at least these two were not fools who believed in the glory of war. But he couldn't have two warriors reluctant to get involved. "What does that mean for you?" He asked.

"We want asssssuranssesss that the caussss iss jussst," Lihn replied after a brief silent conversation with Rihn.

"What will you do if I don't?" Arbohk did not flatten his neck, but the twin Salazars recognised the threat. They floundered for a while, not sure what to say. He decided to put them out of their misery. "If we don't go to war then Xkitor will destroy the planet, is that good enough for you?"

They looked at one another before answering in unison. "What iss your order Chieftain?"

* * *

><p>The pistol salvaged from the now obsolete Spawn was fired a couple more times and the red lasers crashed into the walls in random positions. Broxa growled in frustration as the picture frame that she had been aiming at continued to avoid being hit.<p>

"Maybe you sssould try aiming for the thing next to it," Singh suggested.

She twisted round and glared at him. "I'd like to see you do better," she challenged.

"Unfortunately I cannot even lift anything that iss larger than half my ssize with only one arm," he replied indicating the stitching in his side in the place that he used to have an arm, "let alone fire it, otherwise I would be happy to oblige."

Singh had been lucky, there were not many people who got hit by a Dalek laser and lived to tell the tale, but even that little luck had had its price. The arm that had taken the full force of the blast had effectively been killed, all the muscle and bone had been scrambled up leaving the limb completely useless. The only solution was for one of the Thoruxans to amputate it and sew up the flap of skin that remained.

"Even so," Broxa bit back, "I bet _you_ couldn't hit it."

Singh reached behind himself with his remaining arm, unsheathed one of his swords and threw it at the picture frame. The blade spun through the air and landed in the centre of the picture frame, quivering slightly. Broxa stared at it, mouth gaping open, gobsmacked.

"How the xess did you do that?!" She exclaimed.

"Yearsss of practisss," Singh replied.

"Don't be stupid, you didn't have any arms a couple of... Some time ago," she replied.

"I don't ekssspect you to underssstand," he replied casually, walking over to the wall and leaping up to retrieve his blade. "In adolesssenssss we meditate in preparation for the time when we grow limbssss, effectively practisssing all theesss ssskillsss."

Broxa didn't really understand what he was talking about but got the feeling that that hadn't really been a fair test. She spotted Usahn standing casually at the back of the room and marched over to him, pistol in hand.

"You have a go," she ordered.

"What?"

"try and hit the picture frame," she ordered, forcing the pistol into his hands. "I can't be the only one who can't do it."

Usahn would have normally been inclined to refuse such a request, but Broxa was scary. She had this aggressive nature completely unlike any other females of this world, and wild eyes, especially when angry like she was now, of a completely foreign colour, which both contributed to make her seem much larger than she actually was. What made her even more intimidating was the injury she had sustained against the assassin. Triclops' thorny tongue had completely ripped out the scale that had covered her cheek, the flaps of skin had been sewn back together but it was clear that she was going to have a scar.

Usahn cautiously took the pistol from her. "You want me to hit the picture?"

"I was hoping you would miss actually," she replied matter-of-factly. "But I do want you to try, show clever scales here that we aren't naturally skilled at things like him."

He nodded hesitantly and shakily pointed the pistol at the target. He squinted and pulled the trigger. Broxa's eyes widened in surprise, quickly narrowing them after she got over the initial shock and growled. Singh made a rattling, hissing sound which the others quickly realised was laughter. Usahn simply stared in shock, struggling to believe that he had actually managed to hit it.

"Do it again," Broxa demanded. He floundered, not wanting be put on the spot once more but unsure on the correct way to say no to her without entering some unmentioned, but quite clearly real world of pain. He couldn't even plead to the Doctor, the one person who seemed to be able to say whatever he liked to this girl without incurring her wrath, for he seemed to have fallen asleep; not the most reassuring of actions when faced with the apocalypse.

"Go on!" Broxa repeated.

"Leave him alone you monster!" Alisandra strode up to her brother and escorted him away, fixing Broxa with a glare as she did so.

"It seems that it _is_ just you," Singh said teasingly.

"Oh shut up," Broxa snapped. She stomped over to a random chair sat down moodily, glancing briefly at the Doctor's unconscious form. He needed to awaken again soon, there was no telling how long they would be able to remain unnoticed.

* * *

><p>"I am arrogant," the Doctor said, "that's what my problem is. I foolishly assumed that I would simply be able to catch the one who was helping him off guard and disable all the machinery he had that was helping to bring him back, block his controlling signal over the Spawns. I knew the assassin would prove problematic, I just hadn't expected the Commune, I got distracted in trying to solve the local problem and Xkitor simply stole in and took what he needed, right under my nose."<p>

He was lying on a sofa staring at the ceiling. The Eighth Doctor was sat on an armchair his legs crossed and a finger on his temple, listening carefully to everything the Doctor had to say.

"I really should have asked Xanus and Kabrok to come with me," The Doctor continued. "Bringing an army of the Shadow Proclamation with them, I mean I let them do that when I entered Sundew and if anything that was less perilous than this. I would have a chance at the very least.

"It seems my assumption that I will be able to deal with Xkitor before he had a chance to rise was naïve. With the technology available on this planet I shouldn't have put myself in that sort of position, now that he has actually risen there is nothing I can do to even disable him again. I know we have one of the Spawns' pistols but one energy weapon will not be enough."

"Can I stop you there?" Eight butted in. The Doctor glanced over and nodded. "Is this session just so you can whinge about what you didn't do earlier?"

"Isn't the whole point that I bear my soul to you so that you can analyse my problems and help me to remedy them?" The Doctor replied with confusion.

"You're mistaking me for a psychiatrist," Eight replied, "I am a Doctor."

"Psychiatrists are doctors."

"Yes, but not all doctors are psychiatrists," Eight pointed out.

"So what is the point in me being here if you aren't going to be helpful?" The Doctor demanded.

"I am going to be helpful," the past Doctor replied, "but I cannot help someone who believes he has already lost." He stood up and started to walk towards the oak door.

"Hold on where are you going?" The Doctor exclaimed. "Paradox, stop! Come back!"

Paradox paused just before the door. "I don't know what you expect me to do," he said, "I don't want to spend my time listening to you sulk. I can't just click my fingers and make everything suddenly alright."

"No, you can't," the Doctor agreed miserably. "I just need you to advise me."

"Need?" The Eighth Doctor noted. "Since when have you needed to call upon your previous selves to advise you in your darkest moments? This is want. You want to have someone listen to your woes and tell you that it will be alright. We are figments of your imagination, we already know of your woes."

"But you might have realised something that I have not," the Doctor replied.

"Maybe we have," Paradox shrugged. "We never had the benefit of past wisdom though, why should you?"

"Well thank you for being so helpful," the Doctor said sarcastically. "Next time I feel a little down I'm sure to come and talk with you."

Paradox looked down guiltily. "You'll think of something," he said.

"Oh?"

"Well you had better," Eight opened the door, "otherwise we all... Do you hear hissing?"

The Doctor frowned and listened closely, now that he mentioned it there was this hissing that was suddenly echoing round the room. He lay back down flat on the couch and shut his eyes. Upon opening them again he was back in the real world.

He twisted his head round to spy a couple of yellow Salazars hissing at Singh threateningly. While everyone else was stood back, scared to get in between these creatures that they believed to be vicious and unpredictable, he recognised that it was mostly light-hearted banter on the part of the yellow ones. An older one with purple dye covering its scales, holding a bow, stood behind, watching his charges with mild amusement.

"Chieftain!" The Doctor said to get the Salazar's attention and proceeded to hiss, much to its astonishment.

"You speak our tongue," Arbohk replied.

"Of course. I am fluent in 236,432 different languages; even Dothraki," he replied proudly before repeating his question. "What's the news?"

"We have gone to war," Arbohk replied. "The Salazars that is, the Thoruxans are hiding like you. Who are you anyway?"

"I'm the Doctor," he replied.

"That's a funny name," the Chieftain commented. "Is it Mr. Doctor or shall I just call you The?"

He looked into the Chieftain quizzically and came to the conclusion that he wasn't joking. "No, no its a title," he said, shaking his head, "my real name is unpronounceable in most languages."

"What have you done to deserve such a title then, The?" Arbohk questioned.

The Doctor looked at Broxa in despair, some people just don't listen. He decided not to make anything of it. "What sort of technology do you have at your disposal?"

"Standard equipment," Arbohk shrugged. "Communicators, trackers and weaponry of the warriors choice."

"Any energy weapons?" The Doctor pressed. "Ray guns, bombs, rocket launchers?"

"I am not familiar with these words," the Chieftain said uncertainly.

"I was afraid of that," the Doctor muttered. "We are still hopelessly out-gunned."

"We are warriorsss," Arbohk declared. "We ssall fight and come out victoriousss, already the Sspawnsss are falling at our feet, completely out-matched."

"Spawns are one thing," the Doctor said bitterly, bringing him back down to Earth, "we still have nothing that can deal with Xkitor himself."

"Why you so miserable?" Broxa asked. "Normally you're dancing around the room singing songs to uplift people."

"What good will that do? Singing won't stop Xkitor..." He trailed off suddenly. "Chieftain, how many of those communicators do we have?"

"Each Chieftain has one."

The Doctor slowly started to smile a big broad smile, so powerful that Broxa and many others found themselves grinning back even though they did not really know why he was smiling. "Get one of them over here now, oh Broxa you are a genius!"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: This shall be the last update for a couple of weeks, I am going on holiday tomorrow so will not be able to update or reply to anyone until I return. Thank you to all those who have stuck with me through the duration of this story, hopefully I will see you all again when I return.<strong>


	50. Evil 11

"He'sss no more than a worm," Rihn mocked. "Barely sssedded hiss adolesssent ssskin."

"I heard that Ekhan was a wise Chieftain," Lihn supplied.

"Really? Where do you hear sssuch talesss?" Rihn asked in mock surprise. "You have clearly been missinformed, no wise Chieftain would sssend a worm to do a warriorsss work."

"I know," Lihn agreed.

"I am no worm," Singh retorted.

"No," Rihn agreed, "you are a lame."

"Only one with two armsss can wield two bladesss," Lihn said indicating the two swords slung on the one armed Salazar's back. "Not your fault though, you weren't to know that one of your armsss wouldn't grow."

"Both my armsss did grow!" Singh hissed angrily. "I lost thiss one in battle, I don't see any battle sscarssss on you."

"We disspatched of two Ssspawnss on our way over, don't dare question uss worm," Rihn spat.

Singh smirked at this. "Between you? I did three on my own, plusss a pair of Commune Thorukssansss."

The twins looked at one another, suitably impressed. Singh took this brief moment of reprieve from interrogation to glance over at the other Salazar that had entered with the twins. He had been in conversation with the Doctor, who was suddenly smiling again, and was conversing with someone over the communicator. Singh could tell he was a Chieftain due to his dyed scales and folded skin on his neck, but he couldn't tell which one. The colour of his underling's scales suggested that he was southern but he couldn't remember which tribe's colour was that particular shade of purple.

"When did you loossss your arm?" Rihn questioned. "Before or after your dissspatchment of the Ssspawnsss?"

Singh frowned, realising where they were going with this. "After," he replied grudgingly."

"A true tragedy," Lihn sighed. "A fine warrior, lamed before he had the chansss to truly prove himssself."

"I can ssstill fight," Singh declared.

"Your Ekhan's man aren't you."

Singh slowly turned towards the Chieftain defiantly. Despite his brave face inside he was terrified. He could just about handle the taunts of the twins but to be mocked by a Chieftain... If his own Chieftain was anything to go by he would prove harsh in any criticisms that he had; harsh to the point that many felt was unfair.

"I am," he replied.

"I had expected you to be Rajeev," the Chieftain stated.

"Most ekssspected him to choosss Rajeev," Singh replied honestly. He himself couldn't quite believe that he, still an adolescent, a worm, had been sent on such an important mission over Ekhan's right hand man.

The Chieftain blinked, his expression impassive, possibly sizing him up. "You brought down the Commune?" He questioned.

Singh blinked as well, out of surprise. Of all the things the Chieftain could have probed about (how had he managed to wangle that one, what sort of error caused you to lose your arm, why did you run rather than continuing to fight, etcetera) the one thing he hadn't expected was intrigue into his success. He floundered for an answer.

"Modesty as well," the Chieftain spotted, "look at that boys, question his failures and he jumps up to defend himself, ask about his success and he is lost for words. It truly saddens me when such a promising warrior is lamed on only his second mission. Stories will be written about you," he assured him, "people will talk of your prowess and speculate what you could have become had you been luckier."

Singh frowned and cocked his head to one side. It may have been a flattering speech but Singh still noticed the underlying message: your fighting days are over. To be fair, had he come and said this earlier Singh would have agreed with him and happily retired; that is to say that he would have fallen on his sword, Salazars that couldn't fight could not be part of a tribe so most preferred a quick death at their own hands to a long drawn out life of misery all alone. As his arm had been amputated he had wept loudly, not from the pain but from shame and knowledge that his days as a warrior were over, but as time had passed and he had watched Broxa struggle with the Spawn's pistol he began to realise that maybe he wasn't as useless as he had thought. Broxa was useless with the pistol but didn't despair, other than the frustrated tantrums, for she knew that she had skills in other places, so slowly calmed himself and discovered that while he had lost one of his arms that hadn't meant that his skill with the remaining one had diminished; this had been proven when he had successfully taken up Broxa's challenge to hit the picture frame himself.

"I can ssstill fight," he exclaimed.

"I should have put money on him saying that," the Doctor muttered.

"If only that were true," the Chieftain said, ignoring the Doctor's comment.

"He iss no more than a worm," Rihn taunted. "Wormsss cannot be warriorssssss."

"I am no worm!" Singh hissed. "I could ssstill defeat you!"

"Oh I doubt it," Rihn laughed. His laughter slowly trailed off as Singh unsheathed one of his blades and pointed it him threateningly. The older warrior narrowed his eyes and slowly brandished his own sword.

"Put up your swords fools," the Chieftain chided, "this won't be some training spar, it will be a fight to the death."

"And you think I will loosss?"

"That comment wasn't just for you," the Chieftain said, he turned back to Singh. "You understand the consequences? You can still back down."

"I underssstand," Singh replied, refusing to take his eyes off of his opponent.

"Very well," the Chieftain nodded, "choossssss your weaponssss!"

"Hold on a minute!" The Doctor exclaimed. The Salazars all paused and turned towards the Time Lord. "Can I have a word Chieftain. Actually, what is your name? It is very strange simply referring to someone simply by a rank they hold. Although, having said that, I always insisted on calling the Brigadier: Brigadier. But then again, I did actually know his name so I had the option, with you I only have Chieftain."

Singh listened intently, he himself was curious about the Chieftain's name. "I am called Arbohk," Arbohk said. "Were you not listening?"

"Of course you are, you announced it when calling your friends," the Doctor slapped his face, feeling foolish. "Who says I don't act my age sometimes? Anyway, is it really wise to allow a fight to the death at this hour? Surely you need every man that you can get."

"I don't know of any Chieftain that would accept a lame into their ranksss," Arbohk shrugged, "if he is willing to die to prove us wrong then so be it. On the flip side, why would I want a warrior who can be beaten by a lame?"

The Doctor looked over at the one armed Salazar. He had grown quite fond of Singh, he wasn't sure that he was quite ready to lose another one of his friends just yet; especially in such frivolous circumstances. He was not willing to directly defy an ancient practice, however, and Singh was clearly determined to see it through. He shrugged and allowed Arbohk to return to the two fighters.

"His neck's different," Broxa observed.

"It is," the Doctor agreed. "When angry those folds of skin unfold and flatten out to make himself seem bigger and more threatening."

"Why is his like that?" She wondered. "Why doesn't Singh or the other two have a neck like that?"

"They're too young," he answered. "If they are skilled enough to survive long enough they will undergo a transformation, much like the one we saw Singh undergo to grow his limbs, to grow their neck and they become Boks, elders of tribes, and the only ones who may challenge the Chieftain for control of the tribe."

"Wouldn't the Boks be weaker than the warriors?" Broxa questioned. "Why should they be the Chieftains?"

"Yeah I understand your thinking," the Doctor nodded, in front of him Arbohk had finished explaining the rules of the bout to the two fighters and was backing away from them, "but in this case you're wrong. You don't become a Bok unless you have some skill in battle. Boks are the strongest Salazars and the wisest thanks to their years, and they become Chieftain by challenging one another much like this."

She grinned at this. "Finally! A culture that makes sense!"

"You would make a good Salazar," he commented. "Life is full of surprises, when I heard that I was going to be taken to see the Mayor of your tribe I was expecting some large hulking figure, bones tangled in a great bushy beard and sipping blood out of a human skull. Instead I got you, which in the long run has proven to be a good thing."

"Come on Singh!" Broxa shouted, clearly having not heard him, the duel had already begun.

Singh had brandished one of his swords in his remaining arm and was blocking Rihn's two handed blows with his curved sword. He was faster and was proving that he still had a considerable amount of skill in his right arm, but he was not fully used to fighting with only one blade and as such was finding his left hand side parries awkward. Rihn's two handed technique may have been slower but it was more powerful and it was not difficult to notice the weakness on Singh's left hand side; he ruthlessly exploited it. Rihn hissed loudly with every blow he struck, driving Singh backwards. Singh danced back, flipped sideways and struck himself with lightning fast slashes but Rihn was quick himself and always seemed to have his own blade in the way whenever he hadn't danced out of range. There was a great clang as both Salazars swung their blades simultaneously and clashed heavily. They remained locked in a titanic struggle which only acted to demonstrate how much of a disadvantage Singh had, Rihn's two arms pressed down with all their strength ever so slowly overpowering Singh's one.

Broxa screamed encouragement but it seemed to make no difference, he continued to be slowly pushed downwards onto his knees. He needed to do something otherwise he was as good as dead but there seemed to be nothing that he could do; he needed a second arm. The solution came to him in a flash: he launched his head forwards and sank his teeth into Rihn's face in the same way that he sank his teeth into the idea. Rihn gave a cry of pain and lessened the pressure he was exerting through his sword, but only enough to allow Singh back onto his feet. He removed one of his hands from his sword and punched Singh in the jaw to make him let go, then followed through with three more bending his opponent double from this brutal onslaught. The sword was forced from Singh's hand and he had to roll aside to avoid a headsman like chop. He came back to his feet too far away for Rihn to be able strike him again but to near for him to be willing to risk unsheathing his other blade; he wouldn't be able to dodge so easily with his one arm occupied should Rihn step forwards to strike. They remained frozen in position, daring the other to make a move.

"Come on Singh!" Broxa shouted again.

The Doctor waited for Broxa to go quiet before throwing in his own encouragement. "Come on Federer."

Rihn twisted his head towards the Doctor in confusion. That was all the distraction Singh needed. He pulled out his other sword and jumped forwards to slash at his opponent's face; Rihn barely parried.

"Federer?" Broxa questioned.

"Seven time Wimbledon tennis champion," the Doctor replied. "You would have to have seen his second round match against Tim Henman in 2006 to understand. Don't complain though, it did work after all."

Singh and Rihn exchanged blows for a few seconds, Rihn hissing with anger over having not won yet. He struck forwards with a powerful, but frantic, two handed swipe, Singh deflected it one way and rolled the other way so that when they resumed exchanging blows he was stood over his other sword. Only the Doctor noticed his tail curl around the hilt of the sword while he blocked with the other, as such he was the only one to predict what came next.

Rihn pressed his blade down on top of Singh's with such force that he actually jarred his own shoulders, but it still had Singh bent double again and this time he did not have another sword to brandish if he lost this one. "I have you now," he taunted and Singh struck.

His tail lashed out between his legs and struck the sword it was holding upwards. The blade pierced through the bottom of Rihn's jaw and appeared out of the top of his skull glistening with his blood. He reared backwards and gave a muffled cry of pain, the sword preventing him from opening his mouth, Singh pushed back and quickly knocked him to the floor, kicking his curved blade behind him. Rihn lay on his back, sword stuck in his head and eyes wide, holding up one arm pleadingly. But Singh was not about to show any mercy, Rihn wouldn't have returned the favour, he stepped forwards and swung his blade in a lethal arc.

"What is the meaning of thisssss!"

He would recognise that voice anywhere. He quickly dropped to his knees and rested on his sword in the manner of an humble knight. Arbohk casually turned his head to find himself face to face with another Bok, burnt orange scales were barely visible underneath black dye that covered him. His neck was completely flattened revealing the image of a snake's skeleton, white and bordered with red on a completely black background.

"Fayssss meeee," he hissed, bobbing his head threateningly.

Arbohk cocked his brow, almost in amusement. "No," he said simply. "You would never challenge me Ekhan, unless I had recently suffered an accident that caused me to lose a hand. Hello Rajeev," he added upon noticing the other Bok behind the Chieftain. Unlike Ekhan, Rajeev's skin was not covered with black dye, only Chieftains were allowed to do that, he inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"It iss not wise to allow our warriors to kill one another like this," Ekhan snarled, refusing to back down. "Weeee neeeeed all the warriorsss weeee can get."

"To be honest I agree," Arbohk replied, "but your warrior wanted blood, and being lame I didn't think we would miss him. I wasn't expecting him to win."

For the first time Ekhan looked away from his rival and squinted down at Singh. "What happened to your arm worm?"

"I lost it, Chieftain," Singh replied without lifting his head up.

"How?"

"Fighting Spawns, Chieftain."

Ekhan looked Singh up and down then over at Rihn who still had the sword clamping his mouth shut despite his efforts to remove it. The Chieftain tilted his head back and roared with the Salazar equivalent of laughter. "Lame and yet he still beats your besst man," he declared folding his neck up so he had a less threatening demeanour. "I knew I was right to send him." He looked down at Rihn again and tutted at the sight of his struggle. "You," he pointed at Lihn, "help him out."

Lihn looked to Arbohk for confirmation before kneeling down to offer his aid. Ekhan strode up and down the room, eyeing everything and everyone up suspiciously. "Is this your idea of sanctuary?" he wondered aloud. "An overlarge cave filled with Thoruxans and Half-breeds."

"Technically they aren't Half-breedssss, Chieftain," Singh pointed out.

"What do we call them then?"

"Oppressssed," Singh suggested.

Ekhan gave no indication of what he thought of this suggestion, he turned to face Arbohk again. "Why did you summon me here?" he asked. "Why did you pull me away from war that you yourself forced me into?"

Arbohk didn't respond, he simply turned his head, the other Chieftain followed his gaze to see the Doctor smiling and waving at him. "Hello," he said, "I'm the Doctor."

"You're not Thoruxan," Ekhan said accusingly.

"Twelve out of ten," the Doctor replied. "I must say that I am very excited to finally meet you, I have read so many books about the Black Salazar, he who would slay a hundred enemies! And with only one..." He trailed off. "Oh, that must have been a different black Salazar. But I'm sure you have done and will do some great deeds yourself."

Ekhan turned back to Arbohk with an unreadable expression. "Who is this idiot?" He asked.

"He claims he has a way to defeat Xkitor," Arbohk said.

He twisted back to the Doctor with interest. "Can you now?" He leered.

"Twelve out of ten," the Doctor grinned back. "All I need is your communicator. Oh and a few volunteers to help me get to Xkitor." Rihn screamed as Lihn finally pulled the sword out of him. The Doctor tutted. "I thought you Salazars were brave, the prospect of meeting Xkitor shouldn't be that scary."

* * *

><p>There were Spawns on the street below, both old and new, marching in their jerky way up and down but never beyond the row of houses that the Doctor and his party were hiding on top of. They were guards, Xkitor wasn't stupid, he wasn't going to leave himself completely undefended.<p>

"We need to distract them in some way," the Doctor said.

"Can't we just attack them?" Broxa asked.

"No, that would show him that I have some plan before I actually get to him," the Doctor shook his head. "I want it to be a surprise."

"So you want to get past them without them knowing that you have," Usahn clarified.

"Twelve out of ten."

"Any ideas?"

"Well by the looks of things the only way to completely distract Xkitor's attentions would be for a group of people to attack one end, make him believe that a stray force has decided to attack him directly," the Doctor said. "While he's distracted with that the rest should be able to cross the other end of the street unnoticed." He looked to the other three companions that had chosen to join them. "That would fall to you unfortunately, I would understand if you refuse, it is unlikely that you will live to tell the tale."

"We are willing to fight, and die for you, Theta Sigma," the Thoruxan declared. He was one of the former prisoners of the Commune, half of his face was covered with scale from the Salazar's touch. There were also two Salazars from Ekhan's tribe, they wouldn't balk at a fight either.

"Very well," the Doctor nodded. "Spread out there," he pointed, "that will catch them off guard." They nodded and made their way over, being careful to keep as low as possible. Broxa slowly got up to join them but the Doctor put his hand on her shoulder. "Not you, I want you with me."

She dropped back to the roof moodily. "You never let me have any fun," she complained.

"You'll get plenty of fun if things go badly for us," he assured her. He turned to Usahn. "Keep hold of that pistol and watch my back."

"This will work won't it?" He asked worriedly. "You will save us?"

"I brought an end to the Commune didn't I," the Doctor replied, "don't worry, it will be fine."

"The Commune were just Thoruxans though," Usahn persisted, "Xkitor is an allah!"

"No he's a Dalek," the Doctor corrected. "I know he's more durable than the rest of us, but he isn't immortal and he does have a weakness." He brandished the communicator that he had borrowed from Ekhan. "This will defeat him."

"But it's just a communicator," he exclaimed.

"If the Doctor says it will work then it will work!" Broxa shouted. "Stop being negative."

"Here we go," the Doctor said. Down below the Thoruxan and the two Salazars had leapt into the Spawns, shouting and hissing wildly as they hacked away madly at the Spawns around them. Such was the speed and ferocity of the attack that the ones nearest fell quickly, forcing all the Spawns along the street to turn from their patrol and join in the defence. Soon the part of the street right in front of them was completely empty.

The Doctor made no sound, he simply leapt forwards, rolling as he landed to cushion his fall, and sprinted to the safe cover of the next row of houses. Usahn was not so graceful. He landed awkwardly, his momentum carrying him forwards and causing him to fall onto his fat belly. He coughed and spluttered as the wind was knocked out of him. Broxa was quickly at his side to help pull him to his feet.

"Behind you!"

Broxa twisted round just in time to knock the Spawn's pistol out of its hand and follow though a punch in its jaw to stun it. It made a grab for her but she ducked underneath the clumsy slog and jumped onto its back grabbing at the wire on the back of it neck that would disable it if cut; but she couldn't break it. She looped her arm around his neck, holding on for dear life as it wildly thrashed about in an attempt to shake her off. She squeezed so tightly that on a normal man he would be clawing at her arm in a frantic attempt to stop her from strangling him, but this was not a normal man, this was a man who felt no pain, no more than a zombie.

"Doctor, your knife!" Broxa cried frantically. She noticed that Usahn had rushed over to the Doctor's side rather than help her with the Spawn but paid it no heed, for now at least (she would have words with him later), simply catching the Doctor's golden penknife that was thrown at her and ripping it across the back of the Spawns neck to tear his flesh and snap the wire that kept the Spawn under control. With it broken the Spawn became a simple dead body once again and slumped forwards to the ground.

Broxa stepped over the body towards the Doctor and suddenly froze, eyes widening in shock. The Doctor frowned at this, what could possibly have caused the cannibal leader to freeze in shock? He turned his head in the direction of her gaze and suddenly understood: there was a Spawn's pistol being pointed at his head. That wasn't the most shocking part, with the Spawn that Broxa had taken down another Spawn coming up behind him as well wasn't that much of a surprise, it was the one who was wielding it that was the surprise.

"Usahn," he said, "you don't need to do this."

"Yes I do," the fat Thoruxan replied, strangely without even a hint of remorse.

"No look," the Doctor countered, annoyed but not really concerned, "we discussed this. The only way to stop Xkitor is to destroy him, and you need me to do that. Killing me will not stop him from killing you or everyone else."

"He won't kill me," Usahn assured him.

"Yes he will, regardless of what you do!" He shouted back. "Daleks don't have mercy or compassion, he will thank you for bringing the end of his greatest enemy but he'll still kill you afterwards."

"Put down the xessing gun you idiot!" Broxa snarled. "You'll just get us all killed."

"Not me," Usahn smirked. "Why would Xkitor destroy his greatest creation?"

The Doctor stared at him for once completely lost for words. His eyes tracked along the Thoruxan's arms ending at his gloved hands, why would someone wear gloves in this heat? Now he realised that he hadn't seen Usahn blink at all in his entire time on this planet, and his long hair seemed slightly unusual as if it were not real hair at all.

"Why are you wearing a wig?" He asked.

Usahn continued to smirk as he slowly lifted his spare hand and pulled his hair away from his head, discarding it on the floor like an unwanted rag. Underneath his bald head was covered in a skull cap made up of golden wire, like the wire on the Spawns, twisting round and knitting together tightly so that the skin behind was almost invisible. Lights flashed on the surface and one wire near the back stood up on end and twitched about slightly as if picking up some signal from somewhere.

"You're a Spawn," Broxa breathed.

"No," Usahn said resentfully. "The Spawns are mindless husks, controlled by Xkitor directly. I can think freely and act all by myself. I am a Roboman!"


	51. Evil 12

The Doctor stared in horror at the wire helmet that covered Usahn's head. How had he missed it? Surely he should have realised that this friendly freedom fighter with a long lost sister was in fact one of Xkitor's Robomen. He hadn't though, and that wasn't even the scariest part. Up until now he had assumed that Xkitor had continued to fail in all his attempts to create a fully functioning Roboman, hence the high number of mindless Spawns wandering the streets, but this revelation changed everything. Who knew how many Robomen were out there, pretending to be true Thoruxans whilst secretly sending secrets to Xkitor.

"How many of you are there?" The Doctor questioned.

"For now?" Usahn clarified. "Just me, but once Thoruxa Medio falls completely under Xkitor's control then he will create more for me to command."

That was a small mercy at least, he might be able to handle one. "How long?" He asked. "How long have you been like this? When did Xkitor convert you?"

"You're going to die," Usahn said, "do you think I'm really going to play twenty questions with you?"

"But you saved my life!" The Doctor exclaimed. "The Spawn was strangling me and _you_ stopped it, why would you do that?"

The Roboman shrugged. "I guess I wasn't in my right frame of mind. I slammed the Spawn with the sitar he turned and looked at me and suddenly I remembered who I was, I was a Roboman, I was Xkitor's sleeper agent."

"Well at least you weren't deliberately saving me to lull me into a false sense of security," the Doctor said, "that would have just been stupid. I assume there is some reason you haven't already killed me."

"That communicator," Usahn stated, "what were you going to do with it?"

"You don't know?" The Doctor questioned with surprise.

"You spoke to the Salazars in their own primitive tongue," Usahn said resentfully. "Xkitor neglected to give me the ability to understand that language. Tell me what you were going to use it for!"

"Um, no I don't think I will," the Doctor said simply taking a few steps so that Usahn was no longer facing the street. "Seeing as that is the only thing keeping me alive, as feeble a defence as it is I think I will hold onto it for all its worth. I'll let you struggle over whether it is important or not, if you kill me you will never know, it may come back to bite you."

Broxa, now being behind Usahn and so out of his vision, stalked towards him, the Doctor's knife held in her hand. She moved with the stealth of a cat, and the Doctor gave no indication of having seen her, so there was no possible way for Usahn to detect her. Yet about a metre away, as she was about to slash the knife across the wire running down the back of his neck, he twisted round and caught her wrist, whacked her in the temple before she could recover from the shock, twisted her wrist to make her drop the knife and pulled her towards him so that he had a strangle hold round her neck whilst pointing the pistol at her temple.

"Ok, I didn't expect that," the Doctor commented.

"New deal," Usahn said maliciously. "Tell me what you were planning to do with that communicator, or I kill _her_."

"Don't tell him Doc-" she was cut off by the Roboman clamping his hand over her mouth.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the Doctor cautioned.

"What are you going to do?" Usahn taunted. "I have the gun, I have the hostage and your knife is on the ground."

"No I mean she'll bite your fingers off," the Doctor replied.

"She can bite me as much as she likes," he shrugged.

"No I'm serious," the Doctor persisted, "she's an early Mondasian, one of the cannibal... oh forget it, it's your skin; let her flay you if you really want."

Blood slowly began to seep out between Usahn's finger but he gave no indication of feeling any pain. "I shall count to ten," he stated.

"Oh ten isn't anywhere near long enough," the Doctor scoffed, "I would need a hundred at least."

"You are not getting one hundred rels," Usahn stated.

"I'm not asking for rels," the Doctor laughed, "I want one hundred seconds."

"Seconds!" Usahn exclaimed. "I'm not allowing you to use the time structure of that primitive planet."

"Alright one hundred rels then," the Doctor conceded, "don't say I don't ever give you anything."

"One hundred is still too much! How can I, oh Theta Sigma! She really is eating my hand."

"I did warn you," the Doctor sang gleefully.

"Make her stop!"

"Can't do that," the Doctor shrugged. "Maybe if I had one hundred rels to explain my plan I could try to make her stop."

"No," Usahn shook his head, "Xkitor will just give me a new one."

"Alright, ninety," the Doctor haggled.

"The offer is ten," Usahn growled, "and ten it shall remain."

Broxa opened up her blood stained teeth and quite skilfully managed to pull his middle finger between them. He cursed again and frantically yanked but was unable to pull himself free.

"Oh dear, you've lost that one now," the Doctor commented as if he were talking to a child who has just dropped their favourite toy down a drain. "Good thing Xkitor's going to give you a new one later. Ok maybe one hundred is too much, I'll lower to ninety."

There was a horrible crunch as Broxa successfully bit the Roboman's finger off. He pulled his hand away to save it from even further damage and in doing so allowed Broxa to slip free. She dummied forwards and ducked down behind him, spitting the finger out as she did so, to snatch up the fallen knife. Upon rising up to full height she found herself trapped in a ring of swords each held by a Spawn, she span round, the knife making a light clang as it caught the edge of each blade, but could find no way to escape.

"Not hungry?" The Doctor questioned, indicating the finger in the sand.

"He's all stale," she replied, wiping her bloody mouth with the back of her hand, "and I've never really liked fingers that much anyway."

"Alright," Usahn snarled, pointing his pistol threateningly at the Doctor and letting his mutilated one hang at his side, "you may have twenty rels."

"Eighty," the Doctor haggled.

"Thirty," Usahn returned.

"Seventy five, not a single rel shorter," the Doctor grudgingly offered.

"Fifty?" Usahn suggested.

"Done!" The Doctor accepted.

"Great, do you want to shake on it or are you willing to accept my word?"

"And I would like to see Xkitor in person."

"You can't just add extra conditions whenever you feel like it!"

"I'm not budging on that one," the Doctor said airily, "call it my last request if you will. You have me beaten regardless."

"You can speak to him here!" Usahn exclaimed indicating all the Spawns surrounding Broxa.

"It's alright Usahn," the Spawns intoned in unison. "Let him have his little request. I am quite keen to see him in person myself."

"That's just showing off," the Doctor commented. "If I had control of hundreds of bodies I wouldn't make them all speak at once... No, actually I probably would, sounds like a lot of fun! Right, lead on Macduff."

"Who?"

"Oh never mind, it's an Earth expression."

* * *

><p>A Salazar screamed horribly as it was hit by a red laser from one of the Spawn's pistols, its skeleton becoming visible in the red glow, and another ducked under the clumsy swipe of one armed with a sword to slash at its legs. This was one of many skirmishes between the Spawns and the Salazars that was going on across the town. In this case the Spawns seemed to be on top, they had the advantage in technology and the fact that they were all being controlled by the same individual.<p>

"Chaosss," Singh commented as he looked down on it.

"Thiss iss war," Lihn replied. "War iss chaotic."

"And what do you know about war?" Arbohk questioned rhetorically. "You weren't alive for the great clan war of 2013."

"Ssso it wasssn't chaotic?" Lihn countered.

"Oh it was," Arbohk nodded, "but that isn't the point. You shouldn't make assumptions."

"Plan?" Singh asked.

"Of course," Arbohk nodded. He leaned in close as if it were a secret. "Don't die," he whispered.

"That'ssss not a plan!" Singh spluttered.

"You have sssomething better I sssuppossse," Rihn said.

Singh indicated the ancient Spawns that were clung to the walls like spiders and were looking down upon the battlefield. "I was thinking that we could take down them first," he suggested. "Remove Ssskitor'sss eyesss in the sssky advantage, and masssk our approach."

"And what stops Xkitor getting suspicious about his 'eyes in the sky', as you put it, suddenly disappearing?" Arbohk asked.

"At leassst I'm trying to think of sssomething!"

"True," the Chieftain agreed, "but you need to think about these sorts of things. The secret to coming up with a good plan is to consider all the risks that come with it and tweak it to eliminate, or at least reduce, any risks involved. You can't just continue on with a plan that seems to solve your problems if the new problems caused by this plan actually make things worse."

Singh looked down at the Spawns again to see one fire a red laser down onto an unsuspecting Salazar. "We need to get rid of them," he said, "regardlesssss."

"Yes," Arbohk agreed, "but how will you do it?"

"Why are you assssking me?!" Singh exclaimed. "You're the Chieftain!"

"How will you do it?" Arbohk repeated, completely unfazed by this outburst. Lihn and Rihn turned away from Singh's look of puzzlement, under orders not to give anything away. However, Singh was not stupid so noticed this unusual behaviour from them.

"Thiss iss all a tessst!" He realised.

"Either that or I am genuinely a useless Chieftain," Arbohk replied. "How will you do it?"

Singh looked down at the Spawns again. "We need to kill them quickly," he said, "before we can dessssend. But they are all controlled by Sssskitor sssimultaneoussssly, kill one, no matter how silently, the others will know inssstantly. We need to kill the all at the sssame time."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Arbohk smiled. He brandished his bow and fired an arrow over the top of the street to land on the opposite roof.

Nothing happened for a few seconds but then the heads of two Salazars slowly rose up, one was Ekhan, the other was Rajeev. Arbohk waited patiently for the third Salazar on that side of the street to pop his head up as well, but he never did. After a silent question from Arbohk, Ekhan lifted the limp body of the third Salazar; an arrow was sticking through his neck.

"Oops," he muttered before silently explaining the plan with hand gestures.

Ekhan replied with several hand gestures of his own, explaining his own ideas as to how to deal with the Spawns. There were seven Spawns attached to the walls on either side of the street, one more than the number of Salazars there were now that Arbohk had accidentally killed one. One each, plus one spare.

Once deciding on the exact tactics to follow they each moved swiftly to their decided position on their respective rooftop; brandishing their weapons as they did so. They glanced at each other to make sure that they were all ready before acting simultaneously.

Arbohk loosed an arrow, Singh hurled one of his swords and Ekhan hurled his spear. The remaining three struck down on their selected targets with their swords at the instant that the projectiles from the others struck their targets; all six were killed within milliseconds of each other. The last Spawn slowly moved to see what was going on but was quickly struck in the eye with Singh's sword, which had been thrown by Ekhan, and blinded. Arbohk finished it off by driving Ekhan's spear through it before it could begin firing its weapon at random. Singh retrieved his sword and Arbohk hurled the spear back over to Ekhan, being careful not to kill someone this time.

There was a brief look exchanged by the two Chieftains, they nodded and leaped, their necks flattening out to act like parachutes; Rajeev did the same.

"Sssscared?" Lihn asked, not unkindly.

"No," Singh shook his head.

"Liar."

"Well what about you?" Singh shot back.

"Alwaysss," Lihn replied, "only a fool wouldn't be."

"How about a little wager?" Rihn suggested.

"The lassst one to die winsss?" Lihn questioned. "I don't like the sssound of that."

"No, look at all the Ssspawnsss," Singh pointed. "Whoever killsss the mossst winsss?"

"Correct."

Singh perched himself on the edge and looked back at them. "May the bessst worm win," he said, just before leaping over the edge.

Lihn and Rihn exchanged a look before following him.

* * *

><p>Xkitor gently touched down just as the Doctor exited the perimeter of the town. Despite his nerves he smiled and waved as if greeting an old friend. "So good to meet you in person at last!" he exclaimed.<p>

"Liar," Xkitor replied. "You're quaking in your boots."

"Quaking in my boots? Since when did you start using Earth expressions?" the Doctor queried.

"Not long after you started to," the Dalek replied. "Isn't _know your_ _enemy _a well known phrase?"

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "You've clearly been watching me very closely. How interesting."

"A fascinating life you have," Xkitor said.

"This isn't really relevant is it," Usahn stated, pointing the pistol at the back of the Doctor's neck. "Tell us what you were going to do with that communicator!"

"All in good time Usahn," Xkitor chided, "there is plenty of time for that. You wanted to see me Doctor, so see me."

There was a hiss of gas escaping from a previously sealed container and Xkitor's casing slowly began to open up. It didn't make sense the way it did this, it's not as if there was an appropriately placed seam or hinge that could easily open at a moment's notice, it just cracked open. The large cannon swung to one side and several plates of armour shifted out of the way to reveal the creature within. The twisted mutant that had once been so similar to a human. The true Dalek.

It was a cyan blob for the most part, a bumpy, bulbous blob that didn't look overly dissimilar to a brain. Twisting round this body were many tentacles, not very healthy looking for the most part, they were covered in unsightly spots, lumps and the occasional smaller writhing tentacle; making some look like plant roots. It twitched in time with the pulsing of its thick, ugly veins that covered it and wriggled odd appendages that looked a little bit like fins or flippers that aquatic creatures would be expected to have. Daleks normally only have one eye in the centre of its body, Xkitor had only one himself but it was smaller than would have been expected, was too low on the body and was actually blind. In the place where his eye should have been was an horrific augmentation. A grey dome covered with gold wires latched onto the skin with sharp claws, it had a thick golden wire attached to the centre and leading up into the roof of the travel machine. This was not the only part of Xkitor that was attached to his travel machine, a few tentacles and appendages were also attached to machinery in this way.

"That's Xkitor!?" Broxa exclaimed.

The Doctor stared in wonder, for once completely silent. He leaned forwards and extended his arm out as if to touch him. A tentacle uncoiled revealing a large lobster like claw on the end of it which struck like a snake to clamp around the Doctor's wrist.

"No touching," Xkitor said. "You may look, but that is all."

The Doctor put his hand on Xkitor's casing to steady himself as he was held off balance by the Dalek's powerful grip. "I had forgotten about Davros' changes when creating you Imperials," he muttered. He glanced up and down the many mutations that Xkitor had suffered due to the radiation of his cannon. "I had no idea it was this bad," he said sympathetically.

"Is it really?" Xkitor replied, unconvinced. "I feel perfectly fine. More liberated than I have ever felt before."

"And what do you know about feeling liberated?" the Doctor queried.

"Enough," Xkitor replied, "enough."

The Doctor frowned at this response. "Do you mean to tell me that you are feeling emotions other than hate?"

"Possibly," Xkitor replied. "Even my studies of other cultures do not shed much light on the subject. There are certain stirrings I feel inside myself from time to time, a bit like hate, but different."

"Horsehead Nebula," the Doctor breathed, "no wonder they hated you so much."

"The Daleks? Or do you mean your fellow Time Lords?" Xkitor questioned. "You talk as if my people were the most evil destroyers in the universe, but do you ever stop to realise what your own people did?"

"Oh I do," the Doctor assured him, "very regularly. Considering you don't want me to touch you, you are keeping a very tight grip on me."

"I am savouring the moment," the Dalek replied. "Once I let go you will have to die and our long game will finally be over."

The Doctor cocked his head. "You don't want this to end," he realised. "You spend your entire time on this rock, plotting my downfall and sending assassins after me, yet now that I am here at your mercy you don't know what to do about it, you don't want it to end!" he gave out three loud booms of laughter. "Is this why the Daleks turned on you? Did you decide that killing Time Lords was too easy, and that you should start giving us a chance to fight back. Aargh!" he cried out as Xkitor tightened his grip round his wrist.

"Doctor!" Broxa made a move towards him but the Spawns quickly reformed their circle around her, keeping her trapped.

"Your wit will not save you this time," Xkitor said calmly.

"Technically my wit has had nothing to do with helping me in our last encounters," the Doctor pointed out through gritted teeth.

"The Daleks were fools," Xkitor continued, ignoring the Doctor's comment. "They should have stuck with me! I would have bought them great victory, as it was they secured their destruction. Cowards! But they are gone now, and I get the last laugh."

The Doctor fell back as Xkitor released his grip. As he massaged his wrist he stared up at the mutant with an emotion that he never expected to have for a Dalek: pity. It was suddenly very clear how much of an outcast Xkitor must have been. He himself had been sort of an outcast, but not to the extent of the Special Weapons Dalek, he had been completely shunned by his people and eventually betrayed.

"It's not too late," the Doctor pleaded, clutching at the lifeline that had suddenly revealed itself, "you could stop all this now. I'll find somewhere for you to exist, and your Spawns... and Usahn. Somewhere safe, somewhere isolated. Somewhere where you won't be bothered by people who don't understand you. This needn't end with bloodshed."

Xkitor remained silent for a second, the Doctor almost believed that the Dalek was going to accept his offer. "I'm a Dalek," Xkitor replied. "Daleks don't surrender."

"The Daleks wanted to destroy you!" the Doctor shouted jumping to his feet.

Usahn pressed his pistol up against the Doctor's back. "Do not question him," he snarled. "Tell us what you were doing with the communicator!"

"It is no threat Usahn," Xkitor said. "Crush it and let's end it." His casing slowly began to close on his true body.

"Don't do this," the Doctor pleaded, "we can still find a solution. They were cruel to you, I understand that now. Let me help you."

"It's too late for that Theta," the Dalek said, almost sadly. "It's time to end this once and for all. I will miss you, but it is time you were," he paused for effect, "ex-ter-minated!"

The barrel of the cannon pointed itself at the Doctor's chest and hummed as it slowly charged up. The Doctor stared at it, his mind raced but he could think of no way out of this one. The Doctor was going to die.


	52. Evil 13: Death

Death of the Doctor

The barrel of Xkitor's massive cannon seemed to glow as it was charged up. The communicator cracked loudly as it was crushed in Usahn's closing fist. There were many rumours that the Doctor had heard about the final moments before death: the apparent slowing of time, your life flashing before your eyes, a heightened awareness of all the minor events happening around you. He had experienced them all before, on the advent of his regenerations, but he had no more left.

He was already experiencing the slowing of time and heightened senses, but no flashbacks, that gave him hope. While they stayed away this would remain a simple near death experience, he could yet survive.

* * *

><p><em>[Flashback]<em>

"What shall we call him?" Dominica asked.

Several months had passed since their adventure on Thoruxa Medio had reached its conclusion and her pregnancy was no longer invisible; there was a very clear bulge on her belly. Theta looked up at her from the armchair he was sat on.

"Who?" He asked. She patted her belly. "Oh, him? How do you know it's going to be a he?" He questioned.

"I know," she replied cryptically. "So, what are we going to call him?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "I haven't really thought about it."

She grinned and waddled over to the bookcase. "It won't be long now," she said, "we need to be prepared for when the time comes."

"I know," he replied. "That's why I'm reading this." He held up the book he had been reading, it was a very in depth study of pregnancy and childbirth.

"Ooh, actual study?" She asked in mock surprise. "Next thing you know people will be calling you Doctor Lungbarrow."

He visibly winced at the use of his family name, Dominica didn't see it as her back was turned but felt his distress through their psychic link and instantly felt guilty. Not long ago she had managed to get the long range transmitter working allowing them to get news from Gallifrey for the first time since their departure. It had not been pleasant for Theta. The scandal caused by their flight had been made much worse because of Theta's high family status, house Lungbarrow was once highly regarded, now it was shunned by the others. His mother had been dismissed from her post on the council, no one wanted a councillor who's offspring turned renegade; not to mention the scandalous disappearance of her husband, Lord Lungbarrow all those decades ago. Just the mention of the name Lungbarrow was enough to remind Theta of shame that he had caused.

Dominica found the book that she had been looking for and pulled it out. "Well this should help us decide," she said plonking it on his lap, "people of Earth use it when naming their babies."

"Earth," Theta muttered, "should have known it would be Earth. There are far more interesting worlds out there than Earth you... This is an atlas."

"It is Doctor," she replied.

He raised his eyebrows at the use of the term Doctor but made no comment. "People of Earth use an atlas to name their babies?!" he exclaimed. "You're winding me up."

"No I'm serious," she insisted, "though, to be fair they only do it in one community."

"One community," he said sceptically. "Now where would that be?"

"Wimbledon," she said, being careful to keep a straight face.

"Wimbledon? Who on Earth in Wimbledon use..." He trailed off as a realisation dawned. He groaned loudly. "You're talking about the Wombles again aren't you."

"Correctamundo!" She squealed.

He rolled his eyes. "You do realise that the Wombles aren't real don't you?"

"Alright then Mr. Grumpy," she pouted, "do you have any ideas as to what we are going to call our child."

He squirmed in his seat slightly. "Well I always liked the name Tejana," he mumbled.

"That's a girl's name," she chided, "we're having a boy."

"Alright then, we'll do it the Womble way," he conceded. "But if it does turn out to be a girl I want her to be called Tejana."

"It won't be a girl," Dominica said with certainty, "but if we do ever have a girl later on I will let you name her Tejana if you really want."

"Ok," he smiled. "Let's do this." He flicked the atlas open to a random page and pointed his finger at random onto the page. "Loire," he read.

"Not really feeling it," Dominica replied.

"No, me neither," Theta agreed. "Your turn."

Dominica leaned over to point her finger on a random point on the new page. "Usser," Theta said.

"USSR?" Dominica questioned.

"Yep," he nodded, "do you like it?"

"I don't think we should name our child Unified Soviet Socialist Republic," she said.

"Show off," he muttered. "My go then."

_[End of flashback]_

* * *

><p>Ok that was weird, he hadn't thought about that moment for millennia. Didn't mean anything though, it was only one flashback.<p>

* * *

><p><em>[Flashback]<em>

"I can't remember his date of birth," the old man said.

"Ok, I'll try my best but it won't be easy to find him if I don't know the date of birth," the receptionist replied.

"How difficult can it be?" he replied. "You can't get many children called Oslo."

"I'm sorry," she apologised. "Many of the older records have been lost. We may have had an Oslo here, but we don't have the record of who fostered or adopted him."

"Well that's no use," the man complained. "Two hundred years it's taken me to find this place, and you've lost him. Well done, well done."

"Two hundred years?"

"Well obviously not two hundred years really," he clarified, "but it feels like that sometimes."

"Ok, well I don't have all the information here," the receptionist said, "I'm going to have to see if someone else would know."

"Be sure to tell them that I am the father of the boy," he said.

She nodded and walked out to find a more senior social worker. The man sighed heavily and pulled out his pipe, filled it with tobacco and lit it with a match. He took several long puffs as he waited for a response. The end was in sight, he had finally managed to track down the orphanage his son had been left in. Finally he would be able to see his son again.

An older woman followed the receptionist that he had already spoken to over to him. "Hello, I'm Mrs. Clonkers." She held out her hand for him to shake but he ignored it.

"Do you know where he is?" He asked.

"I think I do," she said happily, "Mr..."

He blinked and hesitated for a second. He hadn't prepared for this eventuality, and he really should have done. Theta Sigma was inappropriate for this situation, and either way he had been loath to use that since Dominica had... Since she had gone; it just made him sad. And the alias that he was using most frequently nowadays, the Doctor, was just a title, not a name at all.

"Door," he said, taking inspiration from his surroundings before they could notice his hesitation.

"Mr. Door?" The receptionist. "That's unusual."

"Yes," he said thoughtfully, "I suppose it is." He would have to come up with a better pseudonym at some point.

"Mr. Door," Mrs. Clonkers said. "There was a baby by the name of Oslo here thirty years ago, but he was adopted at about the same time."

"I assume you know who adopted him."

"Oh, of course," she nodded. "I have the form that was originally filled in."

She handed it over to him.

"Mr and Mrs. Foreman," he read aloud. "Thank you, you have been most helpful." He turned and strode out of the building. Oslo may have grown up, but at least he would be able to see him again.

* * *

><p>"I was fond of her too Jamie," the second Doctor said as the image of Victoria disappeared on the scanner screen.<p>

The highlander said nothing, he simply made his way out of the console room to sulk, and the Doctor couldn't blame him. It was never easy to lose a companion whether through death, like Katarina, or if they simply felt it was time to leave, like Ben and Polly, those who ended up travelling with him always became like family to him; apart from Oslo's daughter Susan who was actually family. He understood that it was more difficult for Jamie though, he and Victoria had become very close. He had toyed with the idea of suggesting that Jamie stayed with her, but that almost certainly wouldn't have worked out. Jamie was restless, he couldn't settle down, not on Earth and certainly not that quiet village that Victoria would be staying at. No, it was best say goodbye and move on, regardless of how painful it was.

He moved round the console and noticed a flashing light. Someone was trying to contact the TARDIS. Intrigued, he made sure that Jamie was nowhere to be found before answering.

The face that appeared on screen was that of a woman, fairly young with sharp features and short black hair. "Oh," the Doctor said once he recognised her, "hello mother."

She smiled back. "Hello, Theta Sigma," she said. "Or should I call you Doctor now? You youngsters and your pseudonyms."

"I am assuming this isn't a social call," the Doctor said.

"Is a mother not allowed to talk to her son every now and then?" She asked, pretending to be hurt by his suggestion.

"I would happily believe that," the Doctor said, "except for the fact that you haven't done that. This is the first we've seen of each other since I left."

"True," she admitted. "I suppose I had better get straight to the point then."

"Oh you don't have to," the Doctor said. "We could take this opportunity to catch up. Have you managed to get back on the council yet?"

"Of course not," she replied casually, "your actions have completely ruined any chances of that, along with your father."

"What did he actually do?" The Doctor asked in interest, he had always wondered about his father's mysterious disappearance.

Lady Lungbarrow clearly was not inclined to tell him at this point as she completely ignored the question. "I have, however, managed to secure a leading position in the Agency. I believe you have had dealings with them in the past."

He certainly had, his previous encounter had been not long after his and Dominica's flight from Gallifrey. It wasn't one he was likely to ever forget. "If you know of my previous encounter then you will know that this conversation is a complete waste of time," he said bitterly.

"The intention was never to kill anyone," she replied defensively. "I have dismissed all those involved, especially that Psychologist who failed to notice what had happened to your friend."

"I was under the impression that he picked him _because_ of his anger and mental instability," the Doctor said.

"The sad thing is that I don't think you are wrong," his mother agreed. "But that is in the past now, I am here now, and I am changing things."

"You'll forgive me for being sceptical," he replied.

"I believe you know a certain scientist called Dastari," she continued.

"I know of him," the Doctor said vaguely. "So what?"

"He has become a cause for concern among the council," Lady Lungbarrow explained. "He is overseeing experiments with time in hopes of achieving Time Travel."

"Good for him," the Doctor commented.

"No not really," she replied. "We are concerned that he doesn't really know what he is doing and this meddling could potentially result in the unravelling of the time vortex itself; not to mention the danger if he decides to resort to zygma beam technology."

The Doctor nodded in understanding. "And you want me to go to him to tell him to stop," he said. "Why can't you send one of your shoot-first-ask-questions-later colleagues, that would sort it out much more easily."

"Gallifrey has a policy of remaining neutral," she explained. "If you go in our stead we can maintain plausible deniability."

"I could always refuse," the Doctor said. "Force you to break your neutrality agreement and actually raise a finger in some sort of action; wouldn't that be awful. How did you find me anyway?"

"A mother knows," she smiled. "I wouldn't worry about that, we can only commandeer your Time Capsule when it is stationary, you are safe for the moment. Either way no one besides us knows about this conversation."

"TARDIS," the Doctor said.

"Pardon?"

"She's the TARDIS," the Doctor explained gesturing about the room. "Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Not a Time Capsule."

"Oh, that's quite clever actually," his mother said after a moment of thought. "Did you come up with it yourself."

"Susan did actually."

"One of your new travelling companions?"

"My Granddaughter actually."

Lady Lungbarrow's eyes widened in shock at this statement. "Granddaughter? Where is she?"

"Oh no, I'm not having you drag her to Gallifrey," he warned her. "She's living her own life."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she insisted. "Does this mean that you have a son or a daughter somewhere?"

"Not anymore," he said sadly.

"Scumflower's?" She questioned. He nodded. "I'm going to have to let them know about this. If you do agree to help us I would advise you take the control rod with you; we don't want your TARDIS to fall into their hands."

"Control rod?"

"Stars, Borusa was right," she muttered, "you really do know nothing about how to use a Time Capsule. Next to the inertial dampers, that rod that looks as though it has no use can be removed and used to summon the Time Capsule to you and allows it to escape into the Time Vortex should it come under threat."

"If only I had known about that sooner," the Doctor said as he moved over to the inertial dampers to see if she was telling the truth. "That could have been so useful in the past."

"Excellent," she smiled. "I will trust you to deal with it."

"I can't control the TARDIS," the Doctor pointed out. "I wouldn't actually be able to get to Space Station Chimera even if I wanted to."

She rolled her eyes again. "How long have you been travelling around in that rusty old bucket?" She asked rhetorically. "I'll open up a wormhole near you that will send you most of the way, I'm sure that even you can manage the short little jump into the station."

"What? You said I was safe from the Time Lords so long as I was in the Time Vortex!" The Doctor exclaimed.

"You are," she said with a mischievous grin. "But you aren't from me. Good luck Doctor."

Already the Doctor could feel the TARDIS start to shudder under the gravity of the wormhole that had suddenly appeared. The cloister sounded in warning and he instinctively dived in an attempt to bring the TARDIS under control. "Make me proud son," his mother said, seemingly oblivious to his struggle, "I do love you, remember that." He looked up at her as she smiled at him. "Good luck," she said, and then she was gone.

"What's going on?" A Scottish accent announced Jamie's return to the console room.

It was at this moment that the Doctor decided that he would follow through with his mother's request. Not for her sake, she only wanted it sorted for politics, no he would do it for Jamie. At this time, in light of Victoria's departure, an adventure was just what he needed to keep himself occupied. He took his hand away from the controls and allowed the TARDIS to slowly fall into the wormhole.

"Hold on tight, Jamie," he instructed, "this will be bumpy."

"What's happening, Doctor?" Jamie asked.

"We've been sent on a mission," the Doctor replied. He gave a cry as the sensation of being squashed and forced through a letter box overcame him.

* * *

><p>The third Doctor slammed the TARDIS doors behind him and rushed over to the console. He needed to know what damage the Time Lords had done, they had said he would be exiled to Earth with a new face and yet he still had access to the TARDIS. His TARDIS, he had to remind himself, his wasn't the only one with that acronym now.<p>

It really annoyed him that his mother had stolen his granddaughter's idea for naming the Time Capsules, everyone was using it now; and it was unlikely he or Susan would ever get any credit for inventing it.

He scanned his eyes over the console but saw nothing untoward. That didn't mean anything though, they could very easily have caused a large amount of damage on the inside and he wouldn't be able to tell. Even opening a panel shed no further light on the matter, everything looked fine. There was only one way to know for sure, he would have to try to take off.

As he replaced the panel and walked round to the other side he paused as he noticed a change on the console. The Control Rod that he had used to summon his TARDIS back to him after the conclusion of his mother's mission, in which he had met one of his future incarnations, was gone. The instant reminder that he could have actually escaped before the Time Lords had homed in on him was bad enough, he cursed his previous incarnation for his lack of foresight, but it also proved that the Time Lords had indeed tampered with the TARDIS in some way.

He selected random co-ordinates and prepared the TARDIS for takeoff. At first everything happened as it should do, the TARDIS hummed and clicked at the normal moments and with the correct volume. When he pressed the dematerialisation button the Time Rotor began to oscillate as normal, but only for a couple of seconds. As the sound started to kick in it suddenly began to struggle juddering as if it was fighting against some invisible force, mimicking the sound that wasn't as smooth as it normally was. It was very much like the engine of a car that didn't want to start no matter how often or how aggressively you turned the ignition key.

"Doctor!" A woman's voice could be heard from outside. That UNIT scientist, Liz Shaw. She was going to be angry with him now, quite understandably, it would look like he had tried to abandon her.

The Doctor wondered whether he should have listened to Magnus after all. He had warned him that the Time Lords would punish him as well, he had been right, they had trapped him on Earth. But he knew it was the right decision, there was no way he would have been able to save all those humans on his own; or completely stop the War Lord's plans.

He wondered what had become of Magnus after all that. The Time Lords hadn't mentioned him so maybe he had managed to escape and was still out there somewhere. Or maybe the War Lords had found him first and killed him for his treachery, he would probably never know.

He powered down the TARDIS sadly and made his way over to the door. It was time to face the music. Time to start his new life in exile.

* * *

><p>"Gallifrey," the fourth Doctor breathed, "at last."<p>

After years of silence the Time Lords had finally contacted him once more. Last time it had been to ask him to aid them in their Omega problem, the conclusion of which had brought about the end of his exile, he had been free to travel once more. But since then there had been nothing. Not until this summons. Something important must be happening on Gallifrey, he felt obliged to go if only out of curiosity as to what had been happening through all these years of silence.

But this presented a problem. He had Sarah travelling around with him, and non-Gallifreyans were not allowed on Gallifrey. He could always rebel against this rule, but just because his exile had been lifted didn't mean that he was immune to further punishment, and that left Sarah unfairly in the firing line. He did not want her to be sent back to her native time zone with her memory wiped like Jamie and Zoe had been. No, she would have to leave, he had to take her back to her home in East Croydon.

He heard his companion re-enter the console room and turned to deliver the bad news only to freeze in shock; she was carrying a suitcase filled with all her stuff.

"How did you know?" He asked. A stupid question he realised, she couldn't possibly have known, and yet she was all packed and ready to leave. She was going to leave him anyway.

He pondered on what could have caused the sudden desire to leave throughout the journey to Earth. Had the conflict with Eldrad traumatised her? Had he damaged her more than he had realised? Was it something he had done? He would probably never know. He said goodbye with a smile but inside he was sad. He had initially thought that he would have dropped her off and then come back to collect her again after dealing with his business on Gallifrey, but that clearly wasn't going to be the case. Goodbyes were always hard, he always grew so close to his companions, but Sarah had been special. He quickly dematerialised before he could get too upset. He didn't even realise that he had landed in Aberdeen.

* * *

><p>The fourth Doctor grinned his customary toothy grin as he finally broke open the crate containing the brand new K9 mark II. Polystyrene pellets spilled out along with a paper booklet, he gave it a casual glance before throwing it over his shoulder and returning his attentions to the inside of the crate. He enthusiastically dug the remaining pellets out and pulled out the robotic dog that was hidden beneath them.<p>

He had just said goodbye to the original K9, it had elected to stay on Gallifrey to look after Leela. It still surprised him that the savage that had not so long ago been running around stabbing people had fallen in love.

He tapped a few buttons on the control pad on K9's back and mused about how Gallifrey had changed. They now allowed outsiders for a start, but how much of that was down to his influence he was unsure. He was still bitter though. He only lost Sarah because of that rule, although it was likely she would have left anyway, but at least it wouldn't happen again. And he was technically the President. Borusa was really the one in charge and someone would almost certainly get elected before long, but for the moment at least he was the most powerful Time Lord in the universe.

He gave a cry of delight as K9 came to life.

"Hello," the robot dog said monotonously, "I am K9, your personal assistant in all scientific matters and friend. I am programmed to follow all instructions to the letter, excluding those commands which have no letters, whilst offering my own humble opinion should you require it."

"Yes, yes," the Doctor said impatiently, "I know that."

"I am fluent in all known forms of sound based communication including: English, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Greek, Russian, Serbo-Croatian, Hungarian-"

"How do you skip this?" The Doctor pressed several buttons at random.

"Welsh, Gaelic, Gallic, Cornish, Latin, aboriginal, native american, Dothraki, Klingon-"

"Hold on!"

"High Gallifreyan, old Volantis, ancient Mondasian-"

"No, stop," the Doctor pressed the keys in an even more frantic motion. "I want you to go back. On what planet do they speak Dothraki? I want to know!"

"Quirmian, Klatchian, Goblin tongue, gibberish-"

"Gibberish!?"

"Yes master, gibberish, please pay attention."

"Hah, so you can hear me!" The Doctor exclaimed in delight.

"I cannot hear you yet, this, and the previous statement, are for the benefit of the 99% of buyers who will object to my knowledge of gibberish," K9 explained.

"Oh. But why can't you hear me anyway? Why are you insisting on spouting this unnecessary information?"

"Martian, cockney rhyming slang, elfish, Tritovorian, Judoon, Huttese and many more."

"Finally," the Doctor sighed with relief.

"Please enter the appropriate code to continue set up."

The Doctor blinked in surprise. "What code?" He rummaged about inside the box in search of any clue.

"No code selected," K9 stated. "Introduction continues."

"Noooo!"

* * *

><p>The fifth Doctor marched down the corridors, flanked by Chancellery guards on either side. He had turned a complete circle. He was no longer the hero that had saved Gallifrey from invasion by the Sontarans, that had been forgotten, now he was a criminal once more and this time exile was too good for him, this time they were going to execute him.<p>

It wasn't that he had done anything especially bad, such as assassinate the president, it was almost a necessity. An anti-matter creature had somehow got hold of the Doctor's bio-data and was using that in an attempt to bond with him in order to pass over into this universe. To avoid the inevitable catastrophe of a matter-anti-matter explosion that would be caused by this bonding the Time Lords had decided to kill the Doctor, thus trapping the anti-matter creature in its own universe once more. The Doctor had planned to find out the traitor that had given the creature his bio-data, whilst finding a way to block it, unfortunately the Time Lords had caught him first.

The guards were completely impassive as they escorted him down the long Gallifreyan corridors. He probably wouldn't have minded so much if they hadn't been so enthusiastic in their arrest of him; shooting him like that had been completely unnecessary. It was very clear that he wasn't going to bond with any of these guards like he had done with the previous Commander.

Having said this, he did have a small amount of admiration for the new Commander, Maxil. He may have been brash and overzealous but he had succeeded in capturing the Doctor, and there weren't many who could outsmart him. There was obviously great cunning and intellect that the Doctor had to admire. And he did look very majestic in his full dress uniform, with his beautiful blonde curls, proud features and bristling muscles. He wouldn't mind looking like that in a future incarnation, he was quite passive in his current form, relying heavily on his intellect to save the day, so it would be nice to have a physique that allowed him to take the physical approach if it was needed; it was this lack of physical strength that had made him unable to deal with the Cyber Leader as quickly as he would have liked, and, by extension, had led to the death of Adric. If he got another regeneration of course, as it stood he was about to get executed with no chance of a regeneration.

His mind now wandered through possibilities for escape. He did have a couple of marbles in his pocket, he could drop them in front of his escort and flee in the confusion. No, that would just make him a fugitive once more and alone with no way of countering the anti-matter creature; and Maxil would not hesitate to shoot to kill this time. No he was much better off waiting to see if anything came up. The anti-matter creature would not want its potential host to be destroyed without trying something to stop it; and if it couldn't do anything to stop this its threat to the universe would be at an end. He had had a good run, at least he would be remembered as a hero. Who knows, maybe his mother would turn up; that would almost make it all worthwhile.

* * *

><p>"You've made it very clear from the outset that you were against my fitness regime," Melanie Bush stated, "how do I know you aren't just trying to get rid of me?"<p>

"You're just being difficult now," the sixth Doctor chided. "You know full well that I can't continue to take you with me. That would create a paradox, your life would become a continuous loop of adventures with me, you would be begging me to release you, there does become a point when living out the same things over and over again must grow tiresome eventually. Tell me where you were when you were sucked out of time."

The ginger haired girl folded her arms and scowled for a few seconds before eventually conceding the point. "Alright," she agreed. "Gallifrey."

The Doctor froze and slowly twisted towards her. "Again?!" He exclaimed. "Will I never be free of that troublesome planet? And what is the Master doing travelling forwards across Gallifrey's time line?"

"I dont know," Mel replied with a shrug.

He sighed heavily. "Very well, I'll have to sort it out. I am right in assuming it is after my trial am I?"

She nodded. "The Inquisitor is President as you suggested, but she is under fire from another Time Lady who has been away for a very long time and..."

"Don't give me any details," the Doctor interrupted. "Just tell me when and where."

* * *

><p>"... I am equipped with 18 different settings ranging from minor sting to total incineration," K9 mark II continued, "and have armour that can withstand the force of approximately 10kN."<p>

"Aha," the fourth Doctor cried in triumph. He jumped out from the other side of the console brandishing a wooden mallet. "Now, are you start behaving yourself, or am I going to have to introduce you to Mr. Mallet?!"

"However, it is not advised that I be used solely for military purposes. I am, primarily a scientific-"

The Doctor had had enough. He leaped over to the robotic dog and proceeded to whack it with the mallet. "Why won't you work?!" He shouted as he bashed K9 on the side of his head.

The mallet seemed to cause no damage to the robotic dog at all, but the impact was enough to cause it to cease in its annoying commentary. "Alert, K9 under attack," K9 intoned, "emergency defence parameters activated."

It turned towards the Doctor and extended a thin cylinder out of its nose. The Doctor immediately recognised what it was doing and dived for cover. A red laser was expelled out of the tube, crashing into the wall with a bang. K9 twisted round to find his assailant, firing off several more shots as he did so. It spun left and right but found no more trace of the Doctor who was cowering on the opposite side of the console.

"Danger has passed, returning introduction," K9 stated. "Hello, I am K9, your personal assistant in all scientific matters and friend. I am programmed to follow all instructions to the letter, excluding those commands which have no letters, whilst offering-"

The Doctor jumped up and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "Alright then," he growled, "let's see how you like this one." He knelt down by the side of the annoying machine and proceeded to unscrew the side panel, luckily it didn't seem to object to this and the Doctor soon exposed all the inner workings. I should be able to bypass this stupid introduction through here, he thought as he proceeded to start fiddling about with the cogs and wires. Not once did he stop and notice the sheet of instructions sitting on the floor by his knee.

* * *

><p>"Ah, there you are Mel," the seventh Doctor smiled as he found his companion once more. "Where have you been?"<p>

She floundered for a moment, clearly unsure how to answer. This hesitation gave him a good idea of exactly where she had been, and he understood her concerns but it was actually nothing to worry about, he was allowed to be told about events in his past. He smiled reassuringly to tell her that she was safe to tell him.

She relaxed under the smile and answered. "I was helping you to survive your trial in your previous life," she replied.

"Oh yes, of course," he said, he remembered that well. "Well done. Shame you missed the election though."

"Oh, who won?"

"Romana did," the Doctor replied. "Very close though, could have gone either way. Hopefully this means I will not end up being called back again. Romana will respect my desire to remain a traveller."

"You know her then," it wasn't a question, more of a statement. Mel had guessed from her brief encounter that she and the Doctor had been close at one time.

"She travelled with me," the Doctor nodded, "once upon a time. She's regenerated since then, as have I." Three times in the Doctor's case, three lifetimes since then. There may have been some attraction back then, he couldn't quite remember, but it had long gone by now, they were both quite happy to move on in their separate directions.

They came upon the TARDIS and he unlocked the door to allow them entry. "By the way," the Doctor said just before they could enter. "What were you hoping to achieve in telling me to mind my head?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure to be honest," she said. "I guess I didn't want you to suffer too much."

"You wanted me to be ready for when my regeneration came," the Doctor realised. He patted her on the shoulder. "You always were good to me." He entered the blue police box and shut the door once Mel was safely inside.

* * *

><p>"600 years," the eighth Doctor exclaimed. "600 years and not even a Christmas card."<p>

Lady Lungbarrow sniffed unconcerned. "I could quite easily wonder where _you_ have been for all these centuries and why _you_ have never bothered to come and visit _me_," she replied casually.

They regarded one another coolly for a few seconds, a mixture of admiration and resentment etched on their faces. They had both regenerated since their last conversation. The Doctor was now in his eighth life and no longer a fugitive, his mother now had a more aged body. She wasn't ancient and not ugly, just more respectable and mature looking with brown hair tied into a neat bun; a human might have thought she was in her forties. This change went well with her return to inner circle of the council.

"So, what was your reason for summoning me this time?" He asked. "What favour do you need me to perform?"

"No favour," she replied. "If I had needed a favour I would have contacted you in your TARDIS, it was the Lady President who summoned you to Gallifrey."

"Romana?" He said in surprise. "Well if it was so urgent she should have come to me herself, not sent one of her lapdogs."

"The Lady President is busy with far more important matters," Lady Lungbarrow sighed, "she trusted me to deliver your assignment to you."

"My assignment?!" The Doctor exclaimed, "I'm not an agent at your beck and call. I may have acted as one once, but that was only once, I never did it again."

"You don't have a choice," Lady Lungbarrow said flatly, "all Time Lords, renegade and official have been recalled to Gallifrey to take up arms in defence of their homeland."

This got the Doctor's attention. "What's happened?" He asked. "What's going on?"

"War, Doctor," she answered. "We are at war."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows in surprise. "War?" He echoed. "Who could have possibly antagonised you so much that you have resorted... It's not the Faction Paradox again is it?"

"No, that was just a facade," his mother replied, "an illusion of trickery to hide the true identity of our enemy. The Daleks."

All the colour slowly drained from the Doctor's face. "The... Daleks?" he squeaked. "We're at war with the Daleks."

"That got your attention," she smirked. Then she turned serious once more. "You are to take command of the Star Song and its fleet and are to form up alongside the other major fleets at the apex of the Barron Strait, you will receive further instructions from Chief Commodore Vansell when you arrive."

"Very well," he nodded. "I shall familiarise myself with my ship and crew immediately." He made his way over to the TARDIS, he paused just outside the door. "By the way, why are you trusting a renegade with an entire fleet of battleships?"

"We are at war, son," she said. "It doesn't matter what caste you come from, we are all in the same boat. And you renegades have had more experience of the universe outside of Gallifrey, so it is logical for you to take up roles of command."

"Fair enough," the Doctor nodded, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. A second later he poked his head back round. "What exactly is Romana doing that is so important she can't see me?"

"She is discussing with the rest of the council methods to help the war effort," she replied.

"Ok," the Doctor said. He shut the door, Lady Lungbarrow turned and started to walk away at which point the door opened again. "Are we talking about conscription and rationing or super weapons, Death Stars, nuclear bombs, resurrections, chemical weapons, diseases-"

"I am not authorised to tell you," she stated.

"Oh come on," he drawled, "you can tell me, I'm your son."

"Top secret I'm afraid," she replied. "But I can assure you that you will like it when it comes."

"Very mysterious," the Doctor commented. "Very well, I shall wait with bated breath."

He closed the door again and this time the TARDIS did dematerialise.

* * *

><p>The ninth Doctor looked up at the monitor. He had succeeded. The war was finally over. Gallifrey, the Daleks, the Cybermen and all the other creatures that had gotten caught up in the horrific war were gone. And the consequences of his actions finally sank in, he had just committed mass genocide.<p>

His frantic probes with his mind for other Time Lords turned out to be fruitless; he cursed his lack of skill in the psychic department. He turned to the scanner now, there had to be other survivors surely, he couldn't be the only one. But there was no denying it, even the TARDIS's scanner couldn't locate any other Time Lords or even another TARDIS. He was an endangered species, the last of the Time Lords. And with this realisation the tears finally came.

He had grown weary of the war ever since his regeneration, and after he had discovered what the high council was planning... There was no alternative, it had to go. The entire war, and all those involved, sealed in a time lock so he couldn't even undo his activation of that great and ancient weapon. The Monk had warned him of the consequences of this action and only now did he truly appreciate what he had been saying. It was too late though. Even he had not escaped the rain of fire, the sun turning to ice, the locusts multiplying and feasting on all the crops, the rivers turning to blood and the rest of the devastation brought about by the weapon. No, the Monk couldn't be lost as well, he had known the Doctor's plan. But clearly that had been of no help whatsoever, even he was gone.

He wept louder and collapsed against the console causing an erratic flight pattern to start. He did not care, perhaps crashing into a star would be a mercy, it would save him from the misery that was living alone in the universe. After a few seconds of weeping he chanced a glance at the monitor and saw that the TARDIS was hurtling towards a planet he was very familiar with: Earth.

Who would protect them from the dangers of the universe if he was gone? He jumped up and slowed the descent. Maybe he had a reason to remain living after all.

* * *

><p>It was July 2012. The night of the opening ceremony for the London Olympics. One of the torch bearers had collapsed out of exhaustion, or unforeseen injury, it was difficult to tell, the aides were too slow in getting over to him for a random bystander had already run off with the torch by the time they had gotten over to him. The tenth Doctor continued to sprint on into the night, ignoring the shouts from all the volunteers for him to pass it onto the next bearer, he was on a mission: the Olympic flame had to be lit in order to send the Isolus home.<p>

As he sprinted down one of the streets of London he suddenly heard a very familiar sound: the sound of the TARDIS materialising. He skidded to a halt and stared at slowly appearing blue box dumbfounded.

"What!?" He exclaimed. "What?! What?!"

The door opened to reveal a young man in a tweed jacket, a man the Doctor suddenly recognised. "Me!" He exclaimed in delight.

"Yes, that's right," the eleventh Doctor nodded. "And we haven't got much time. A Weeping Angel is trying to steal the Olympic torch."

"Who?! What?!" Ten exclaimed. "Why would anyone want to steal the Olympic torch? Well, obviously there are those kids who wanted to sell it on eBay, and me who's actually being helpful if they would just calm down. The torch was never going to get there if I hadn't stepped in. But why would a group of aliens want to steal the Olympic torch?"

"I was baffled myself at first," Eleven shrugged. "But then I remembered about the Isolus."

"So they're trying to steal the Isolus?" Ten questioned with raised eyebrows.

"Well, either that or they're trying to stop it from going home," Eleven answered.

"These aren't very angelic angels," Ten observed.

"No, I suppose not," Eleven agreed. "Anyway, you need to give me the torch so that I can set everything straight."

"Aww," Ten moaned, "but I wanted to light the Olympic flame."

"I know," Eleven said sympathetically. "It was an exhilarating moment, but it cannot happen. The instant you enter the stadium the Angels will be upon you, it is safer this way."

"Ok," Ten conceded. He was bitterly disappointed for he had really been looking forward to doing it, but he realised it was probably for the best.

"We'll light the cauldron in Rio," Eleven said as he allowed Ten into the TARDIS, "they won't be expecting that."

* * *

><p>The tenth Doctor held Wilf's old pistol up, pointing it back and forth between the Master and Lord President Rassilon. No one made a move as they awaited his decision, would he shoot the Master or would he shoot Rassilon?<p>

There was perfect logic behind either decision. By killing the Master he would sever the link to Gallifrey causing it to hurtle back into the Time Lock once more; his botched resurrection preventing him from even being able to attempt a regeneration. But if he killed Rassilon then he would be able to take his place, become Lord President himself and he could steer them away from the path of universal destruction that Rassilon had chosen. Gallifrey could become a great benevolent world once more, it was so very tempting, the Master whispered seductively in his ear, encouraging him down that path. Rassilon himself was strangely remaining silent, neither decision was beneficial for him and he could obliterate the Doctor using the Hand of Omega at any instant, yet he didn't. Perhaps he was hoping that the Doctor would choose a third option, kill neither of them and accept his judgement, perhaps assuming that his history of pacifism would stop him from pulling that trigger.

The Doctor stared into the cold grey eyes of the Lord President. Could he really bring himself to destroy his own species again? But he knew that the alternative was worse, he slowly squeezed the trigger. Rassilon's cold stare dared him to go further while the Master egged him on from behind, but it was the movement behind the President that had a bigger effect. A few of the Time Lords were on their knees, and covering their eyes, Rassilon's punishment for choosing to defy him, one now removed their hands. The Doctor's eyes widened in shock, it was his mother.

He had assumed that she had done as she had always done, played her game of thrones defensively to keep herself in the President's good books even at the expense of her own son. She had survived many Presidents, corrupt and benign, by shrewdly changing her politics when it most suited her; she had even survived the crisis caused by the Doctor's flight from Gallifrey. Yet she hadn't done that here, for once she had chosen to do the honourable thing rather than politically savvy decision; it would have been easy to side with Rassilon, nearly everyone else had done so. The expression on her face was not one he had ever seen before, it was one of great sadness. Suddenly the Doctor knew exactly what he needed to do.

He turned and pointed the pistol into the centre of the Master's chest, he stared back with a mixture of fear and pleading.

"Get out of the way," the Doctor stated.

* * *

><p>This planet was very familiar, and this temple was even more so. The eleventh Doctor shone his large UV light against the stone wall. It was very worn but some of the images were still visible, for instance Egyptian styled stick people were cowering on the ground but the reason for their cowering was not clear; possibly a large smudge above them. These images were also familiar to the Doctor, he had definitely been here before, a long time ago, when the images were still recognisable.<p>

He had visited here during his ninth life, towards the end of the Time War, and he hadn't been alone. An old school colleague who had also turned renegade had insisted on coming too; not to help, but to ensure he got the same advantage that the Doctor did. The Monk was never well known for acts of charity and could cause countless mischief if he so chose, but he wasn't evil, he had recognised the evil of this place even if the Doctor had chosen to ignore it.

He scanned further along the wall and found another image that was mostly intact, this one showed a swarm of insects engulfing some crops. He couldn't quite remember why they had come here, he couldn't really remember what had happened here, but he couldn't forget the consequences of visiting here. He shuddered at the thought for it was in this temple that the Doctor and the Monk had discovered the Moment.

That had been a long time ago now, the Moment was long gone. But even so, the Doctor could still sense great evil emanating from this place. He needed to find his companions, things were about to turn ugly. Almost on cue a scream echoed down the corridor.

* * *

><p>The battle was over, the Racnoss were defeated, yet all the twelfth Doctor felt was immense sadness and it was all River Song's fault. As the adventure had continued she had irritated him more and more with her over the top enthusiasm, the casual arrogance, her mischievous teasing and the constant use of 'Sweetie' or 'My love' over simply calling him the Doctor like everyone else. Obviously he hadn't minded in his previous life but right now it just helped him towards a realisation that he had slowly been having since he had regenerated. He didn't love her anymore.<p>

He had been prepared for this moment for a while, his sonic screwdriver was fitted with the neural relay, but now that it was upon him he wasn't sure he was ready. Was he really ready to say goodbye to her for good? The truth was that as soon as she discovered his sudden loss of affection for her she probably wouldn't want to see him either, not in this life.

"We need to talk," he said when he saw her. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, this has not been easy for me."

"You think that we should stop seeing each other," River said with a sigh.

He frowned. "How did you know?"

"I've sensed this coming for a while," she explained. "You just haven't been the same since your regeneration, it's quite clear that you don't love me anymore and to be fair I'm not exactly keen either. I'm surprised you haven't done this sooner actually."

"Oh," the Doctor was lost for words. While this was all true he hadn't expected it to all to come from her lips and then for her to accept it, half of him had been looking forward to an attempt by her to make him reconsider. "Well... Err."

They stared at one another reluctant now that they had reached this point to actually end it. River broke the silence first. "Well, this is goodbye then."

"Yes," the Doctor coughed, "err, goodbye." River turned to leave, knowing that the Doctor was not good at goodbyes. "Wait, take my sonic screwdriver."

"Oh, I couldn't."

"Please, you'll need it a lot more than I will," he pulled out the bulky sonic screwdriver. "I barely use it nowadays actually, I can hardly remember what half of the new features do. Just take it."

She reluctantly took hold of it, cradling it in her hands as if it were a precious treasure. "Are you sure?" She questioned, it had always been his most prized possessions; excluding the TARDIS.

"I've already made up my mind, don't try to make me keep it," the Doctor said hurriedly. "Look, I will not see you again, but you will see me again once more. Make sure you have it with you."

"I will," she nodded solemnly. "Goodbye my love."

"Goodbye, Melody Pond," he replied. Then he turned and swaggered back to the TARDIS, clicked his fingers causing the doors to open on their own accord, walked inside and dematerialised without a backwards glance.

_[end of flashbacks]_

* * *

><p>He saw himself get carried back to the TARDIS after the lifespan of his first body expired. He felt the burning, mind crushing sensation of his second regeneration being forcibly induced by the Time Lords followed by slightly different steady radiation poisoning of the Great One's lair that had killed Dandy. This was surpassed by the vertigo mixed with the terrible knowledge that there was nothing that he could do to stop himself from falling from that tower, then he lost his grip. The initial landing was painless, it was only seconds later that the pain of all the smashed bones began overrun his senses. He had always remembered the pain of this for he had forever maintained a fear of heights in all his other lives, but he had forgotten how painful the Spectrox Toxaemia had been. No wonder Peri had fainted, looking back he couldn't believe that he had managed to carry her all the way back to the TARDIS whilst suffering from the symptoms himself.<p>

He was incredibly relieved when the pain vanished until he realised that he was Coats stood in the TARDIS that was about to be shot down by the Rani. He stumbled wildly under the first shot, catching himself on the exercise bike. Despite knowing what would happen next he could do nothing to stop himself from relaxing, thinking that the worst was over, only to be thrown violently by yet another shot, smashing his temple on the handlebars. Once he regained consciousness he was lying on an operating table with an horrible pain in his chest, almost as if he had been shot and then someone had ripped open an artery whilst doing some sort of exploratory surgery. He pleaded for the surgeons above him to stop, they couldn't cure him. But they ignored him dismissing his ramblings for shock and pressing a mask into his face so as to anaesthetise him. He struggled as best he knew that it would kill him if he allowed it to take hold of him, but soon he breathed in too much of the anaesthetic and fell unconscious wondering whether he was going to wake up again later. When he woke up he was in the heart of the Time War in his eighth life, his flagship, the Star Song, had taken critical damage, his crew were diving for the escape pods but he knew that that was a futile gesture, the Daleks would surely destroy all pods. The only chance was to get to his TARDIS; well he was hardly going to leave it behind. As he sprinted down a corridor he felt the ship vibrate as it was hit once more. The TARDIS was just in sight when disaster struck, the hull could no longer take the strain and burst open sucking out all the oxygen with it. The Doctor held his breath hurriedly, praying his respiratory bypass system would not kick in too soon, and pulled himself across the corridor. He managed to get inside just in time but the damage had already been done, he had been exposed to the vacuum for too long, already the bio-energy was bubbling to the surface.

Next thing he knew he was in his ninth life stood at the console, feeling the bio-energy coursing through his veins, hurriedly fixing the damage that the Time Vortex had caused. This was going to hurt, he realised that it was building to a very powerful explosion of energy, completely unlike anything he had experienced before. Then he was striding into a glass tank and pressing a button to cause the radiation to flood into his tank rather than Wilf's, it was even more painful than the cause of his third regeneration. Once that faded away he found himself in his eleventh life lying in an army hospital bed, too tired to move, too weak to speak to his companions that were stood over him, they would all be in for a big surprise when his regeneration did finally arrive. Finally he found himself sprawled against a wall with the wind knocked out of him, he might have survived if that was all that the bomb had done to him, he closed his eyes and braced himself in preparation for the shrapnel.

The last image faded and he was back on Thoruxa Medio, Xkitor stood in front of him charging up his cannon. He glanced around but Broxa was still trapped in a circle of swords, Usahn was still smirking at the Doctor's impending doom and they were still completely alone.

"Ok," he muttered, "maybe I am going to die."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: ok, that was a long chapter, and with no convenient place to cut it in half. Back to normal next week. To clarify, I don't specifically believe that the Woman in the End of Time is the Doctor's mother, but for the sake of this story it works better if she is.<strong>


	53. Evil 14

Xkitor fired. The Doctor blinked in surprise. Just as the Dalek had fired its powerful energy weapon it had suddenly recoiled backwards, as if in shock, causing the blast to miss by miles. The Spawns themselves were similarly shell shocked, relaxing their weapons and each making an identical exclamation of surprise.

"What is it my lord?" Usahn questioned out of concern.

The Doctor realised that this was probably going to be his best opportunity to escape and exploited it. He punched Ushan in the face and followed through with a kick in the stomach. Usahn tried to bring up his pistol but the Doctor spotted it quickly enough to knock it out of his hand. The Doctor punched Usahn again but it didn't seem to do as much as the previous one and he was quick to block the next one that the Doctor threw. The Roboman suddenly exploded into aggressive action that took the Doctor completely off balance, he managed to frantically block the first couple of blows but too slow to stop the palm that reached behind his defences like a snake and grasped his neck.

"Very clever, Doctor," Usahn snarled, "very clever. But it is time you accepted the inevitability of you defeat."

"I think it's time you accepted the inevitability of this pistol!"

They both twisted their heads towards this female voice to discover Broxa stood on her own with the pistol in her hand. Usahn instinctively reached for the pistol in his robes despite knowing that it wasn't there and the Doctor grinned.

"Not the best line in the world," he said, "but excellent timing nonetheless."

"Don't celebrate just yet," Usahn said snidely. "You didn't see her practising in our hiding place."

"Shut up," Broxa snarled, but the reality was that she _was_ worried about that.

"Or what? You won't try to shoot me, there's too much chance that you will hit the Doctor," Usahn taunted.

This was true, Broxa was all too aware of her inability to use this strange new weapon; she had never actually been any good with any weapon that had required aiming. The Spawns slowly started to stalk over to her causing her to twist round to point the pistol at one of them, it caused each one she pointed at to pause at that moment but it was clear she was just delaying the inevitable; she needed to fire the weapon at Usahn, even if she missed and hit the Doctor, otherwise it was all over.

She turned towards the smirking Roboman and aimed at him as best she could, shaking heavily. She was about to squeeze the trigger when she suddenly remembered Singh's advice. Maybe she should try aiming at the thing next to him. It didn't please her that the Doctor was the only thing near enough to aim at but there was nothing she could do about that. She aimed at him and fired.

He made no sound as the energy hit him and illuminated his skeleton. He simply said, "Oh," once the glow had faded and collapsed to the ground dead.

"Good shot," the Doctor enthused, his companion just stared at the dead Roboman in shock.

"No! No, No! You shall be exterminated for that!" Xkitor screamed in fury. He pointed his massive cannon at Broxa and charged up a shot.

The Doctor took a couple of steps forwards and dived at Broxa, tackling her to the ground just in time to avoid the yellow ball of energy.

"I hit him," she breathed in shock.

"No time to celebrate," the Doctor said, pulling her to her feet, "we need to run.

* * *

><p>Xkitor took several minutes to charge up for each shot that he fired so the Doctor and Broxa had gone by the time he was ready to fire again. His Spawns were trailing them but he didn't have much faith in their success. He seethed as he slowly elevated himself again, his Roboman was dead and the Doctor had slipped through his fingers once again.<p>

Enough was enough, his puppets had done as much as they were going to achieve, it was time he entered the battle himself. He fired at the nearest house completely razing it to the ground. It was time to show the universe the power of the Daleks once...

"Come in Xkitor!"

What?! That was the Doctor's voice! And so close. But that's impossible.

"Hello, can you hear me?"

There it was again. "Doctor?"

"Ah good, I was afraid I had mucked it up for a minute there," the Doctor's voice replied.

"How are you doing that? Tell me, or I will destroy you!"

"Hah, not a very convincing argument," the Doctor laughed. "How will you know how I did it once you have killed me? You'll have to wait until I'm ready to tell you myself." He giggled and suddenly went silent.

"Doctor? Doctor!" It was no good, the Doctor had gone. Xkitor realised that the Doctor was up to something, and that was never a good thing. Luckily Usahn had been able to tell him where the Doctor's hideout was, he would dispatch a few Spawns there to deal with him. Even if they did fail it probably wouldn't matter, by then the Doctor would be too late to enact whatever plan he was cooking up, for Xkitor was going to destroy Thoruxa Medio. He'd like to see the Doctor get out of that.

* * *

><p>The door was kicked down violently causing all those inside to scream in fright, they calmed down when they realised that it was the Doctor carrying Broxa.<p>

"Make way," he shouted, "get some water."

Only then did they realise the reason Broxa was being carried. She was panting heavily, her eyelids were fluttering and her skin was red. As she was lowered onto the offered bed she muttered statements indicating delirium.

"Heat stroke," the Doctor stated. "My fault really, didn't warn her to protect herself in any way. She's from a very cold planet you see, doesn't know about the perils of living somewhere hot." He took the bowl of cold water that had been offered, soaked a cloth and placed it on her forehead.

"Where is Usahn?" Ireenha asked, suddenly noticing his absence.

He looked up at her sadly. "He didn't make it," he said, "I'm sorry."

"I killed him," Broxa slurred.

The Doctor shushed her gently. "You mustn't blame yourself," he said, "there was nothing we could do."

"What happened?"

"He was Roboman," Broxa moaned deliriously.

"You don't want to know," the Doctor said gravely.

"Usahn's dead!" Alisandra exclaimed.

"Is there an echo in here?" The Doctor wondered. "Right, we did manage to successfully plant the speaker and microphone into Xkitor's casing."

"How did you manage that?" Broxa questioned, starting to regain her senses.

"Hush now," the Doctor said soothingly, "allow yourself to heal."

"But the communicator was destroyed," she persisted.

"The empty shell," the Doctor revealed. "I had previously removed the key components for the plan. We now have a direct line to Xkitor."

"What good does that do?" Ireenha asked.

"Isn't that obvious?" He was met with blank looks. "Oh, well allow me to demonstrate then," he brought out a communicator with a flourish. "Hello Xkitor, are you still there?"

"Doctor!" A harsh robotic voice boomed through the communicator. "Stop this this instant."

"Oh?" The Doctor acted as if he were hurt. "Don't you want to hear what my brilliant plan is, and it _is_ a brilliant plan, you'll never guess what it is. Go on have a guess. I'll give you a clue: it's a he and he doesn't have glasses or facial hair. Does that narrow it down at all?"

"Irritating little man!" Xkitor roared.

"No need to be like that," the Doctor tutted, "and that's rich coming from you, you stunted green blob." All the Thoruxans gasped at his last comment. "What? It's true." He briefly switched off the communicator. "Five quid on him threatening to exterminate me," he whispered.

"You shall be exterminated!" Xkitor proclaimed as soon as the communicator was switched back on.

The Doctor grinned at this. "I told you he would say that."

All of a sudden the door was kicked off its hinges and several figures burst through brandishing swords and pistols. There were screams of surprise and fear that was justified this time, only the Doctor didn't cower back.

"Goodbye Doctor," Xkitor taunted.

The Doctor remained impassive as the Spawns began to advance. "Call them off or I will destroy, no forget that, I'm sick of trying to make deals with people, I'm destroying you regardless," he declared.

"And what are you going to do?" the Dalek mocked through the mouth of one of the Spawns. "I'm out here, and you're in there."

"Hey Jude," the Doctor replied. "Don't make it bad."

"What?" the Spawns faltered in confusion.

"Just take a sad song and make it better," the Doctor sang. "Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better."

He handed Broxa the communicator before starting to sing the second verse. "Hey Jude, Don't be afraid," as he sang he picked up a nearby sitar and started to accompany himself on it. "You were made to go out and get her."

"Stop it!"

"The minute you let her under your skin, then you can start to make it better."

"Exterminate!" Xkitor screamed. "Kill him!"

The Spawns stepped forward to follow through with this order but found that they were suddenly unable to move so easily, it was as if they were suddenly trying to move through treacle. One drunkenly raised a pistol but the shot sailed well wide of its target. The Doctor made no move to dodge, he just remained singing and playing the sitar.

"And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain,  
>Don't carry the world upon your shoulders.<br>For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool  
>By making his world a little colder."<p>

The Spawns tried to advance but continued to act like malfunctioning robots. Xkitor's voice continued to scream pointless orders at them but it made no difference. The Thoruxans themselves noticed that something was wrong and cautiously began to approach them.

"Hey Jude, don't let me down.  
>You have found her, now go and get her.<br>Remember to let her into your heart,  
>Then you can start to make it better."<p>

A Spawn clumsily slashed at a Thoruxan and missed badly, the momentum of the strike causing it to fall over, and this was enough to cause the Thoruxans to attack in retaliation. And the Spawns were overwhelmed, all their previous strength and intimidation had completely evaporated. They were armed to the teeth and yet the unarmed Thoruxans were still too strong for them. Broxa, not joining in because of her injuries that the sun had caused, stared on in shock as Xkitor howled in fury.

"So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin,  
>You're waiting for someone to perform with.<br>And don't you know that it's just you, hey jude, you'll do,  
>The movement you need is on your shoulder."<p>

"Doctor, please," Xkitor's voice was almost pleading now but the Doctor mercilessly continued.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad.  
>Take a sad song and make it better.<br>Remember to let her under your skin,  
>Then you'll begin to make it<br>Better better better better better better, yeah!"

"Na, na na, na na na na," the Doctor sang loudly ignoring the screams from Xkitor, "na na na na, hey Jude!" he paused in singing to say: "join in with me people!" before repeating the line. He repeated it several times with each repeat a new singer would join in until all the Thoruxans were singing along. Eventually Xkitor became silent and the Doctor sang one final chorus before bringing the song to an end.

"Well done everyone," the Doctor applauded. "We have just defeated Xkitor."

They all did a double take. "Have we?" one of them said.

"More or less," the Doctor shrugged, "there is still one other matter to deal with before we can confirm it, but essentially yes, we have just defeated Xkitor."

"By singing to him," Broxa said sceptically.

"Twelve out of ten!"

"How can your singing kill someone?" she persisted.

"Xkitor is a Dalek, not a humanoid like us and as such he doesn't appreciate music," the Doctor explained. "He doesn't understand it, to him it is just noise. So by subjecting him to a constant source of it through a set of speakers right next to his ears, well it would be like playing this painful high pitched whine constantly. It would drive you mad, burst your ear drums, or in his case blow all his circuits. He isn't dead but he has been incapacitated, he won't be doing anything to trouble us for a long time and we shall use that to our advantage. I shall go and deal with him."

"Right, I'm coming to," Broxa announced. She tried to sit up but he pushed her back down gently.

"You're in no state to go anywhere," he said firmly. "I'll go alone."

"You can't do that," she protested.

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "If he starts to come back to life early I'll just start singing again. He thought the Beatles was bad, wait until he hears One Direction."

* * *

><p>It was a strange atmosphere around the town. Gone was the fear and panic but this had not been replaced by happiness and joy, it was a very subdued reaction, almost as if people didn't really believe that it was all over; many probably didn't know about the Doctor's success. He could feel eyes on his back as he strolled through the streets, judging him, questioning why he was strolling so casually through the streets. Was he in league with Xkitor? He certainly wasn't from around these parts, could he really be trusted? He chose not to sing cheerfully this time.<p>

He walked through streets littered with Spawns that had all collapsed, the odd one twitching occasionally, and came across Salazars that had been in battle with them. He ignored them all, focusing on following the route back to where Xkitor would be, the only thing he stopped to do was to stoop down to pick up a Spawns pistol.

He paused outside a dwelling on the route, the reason being that it had completely caved in on itself. It was as if something large and heavy had fallen on it; something like a Dalek perhaps? He pushed the door open and the wall collapsed opening up the inside to the elements. Tilted at an angle and half buried in rubble was Xkitor.

As he approached there was a hiss of escaping gas and the front of the Dalek casing opened up. The Dalek creature was looking even more hideous than it did before, now droopy and leaking a suspicious blue liquid.

"Doc-tor," he said weakly.

"Xkitor," the Doctor replied.

"Come to gloat?" Xkitor asked miserably.

"Not exactly," the Doctor replied. "We are the last survivors of the Time War, gloating isn't what you do. No, I'm here to offer you a choice. Soon the rest of the people in this town will realise that you have been defeated, they won't all realise that you still live but the ones who do will come for you, and you will not be able to stop them. I can take you away, give you a sanctuary, you will not be able to take up arms again, you are too damaged and lack the regenerative capabilities of the others to fix yourself, but you will be alive. If that doesn't appeal to you, then I can end it quickly." He brandished the pistol to demonstrate what he meant.

"You could just give me to the mob," Xkitor stated, "why offer this kindness."

"Enough blood has been spilt," the Doctor said. The truth was that he pitied the creature.

"What sort of life can you offer me?"

"A basic existence," the Doctor shrugged, "on a planet where you will not cause any trouble. Enjoy the wind on your skin, conversation with other residents, exposure to art, a chance to heal your crippled mind. I can visit you occasionally if you would like."

"I don't like the sound of that," Xkitor said.

"Yes, I suppose you'd like me to heal you up so that you can try to take over the universe again. What a good idea," the Doctor said sarcastically. "No, you can either live by my terms or die quickly and painlessly. Either one is preferable to the slow drawn out suffering the Thoruxans will unleash on you."

"I choose option three," Xkitor said after a moment's pause.

The Doctor screwed up his face in confusion. "You want to be taken by the mob?"

"No, I have come up with a third option of my own design," Xkitor explained. "Come closer."

Curious the Doctor leaned forwards, and then Xkitor struck. Tentacles shot out wrapped around his neck to pull him even closer, he struggled but there was a lot more fight in Xkitor than he had anticipated. He brought up the pistol to shoot Xkitor but the clawed tentacle shot out and squeezed his wrist until he dropped it again.

Then he heard the sound of Xkitor's engine firing up, he grabbed hold the casing so as to avoid getting strangled when his feet could no longer touch the ground. Xkitor flew higher until he hung in the sky, clearly visible to any onlookers, above the houses. The Doctor continued to struggle but he just couldn't break out of the Dalek's grip.

"I'm going down Doctor," Xkitor said. "But I am not going alone. The Time War shall end today. Nobody wins and nobody loses."

As this was said the Doctor saw the orbs on the lower half of Xkitor's casing detach themselves and slowly fly outwards away from them. the Doctor recognised immediately what was happening, Xkitor was going to kill himself, and because he was trapped in Xkitor's grip he would be killed too.

"So what are we going to call him?" Dominica asked.

"No!" the Doctor shouted, shaking the image away. "I've already seen that."

The orbs floated away until they were arranged in a perfect sphere around the Dalek and his captive. "Goodbye Doctor," Xkitor said, almost sadly, and then he activated the self destruct.


	54. Evil 15: Defeat

Defeat of Evil

The Doctor came round squinting in the bright light of the Thoruxan sun and feeling severely hungover. The first thing that occurred to him was that he wasn't dead, either that or passing into the afterlife was more painful than he had been led to believe. Slowly his vision began to return to normal and an image in front of his face became clear. He blinked several times in surprise. It was a drawing, drawn by stubby fingers using a paint that was liable to run and onto a rough, scaly surface, but that wasn't what was surprising. It was an image of a man pulling his trousers down and showing his bottom to audience.

"You are awake," a voice said.

The Doctor realised that this image was painted on the flat neck of a Bok, by looking up he spied the head of the Salazar that bore this image. It was Chieftain Arbohk.

"That's your symbol?" he exclaimed. He grinned from ear to ear. "That was why Xkitor recoiled, one of the Spawns saw that and he recoiled in shock." He sat up and started to boom with laughter.

Looking around he saw that Arbohk wasn't the only one stood over him, the twins were stood at his side and Singh wasn't far behind them. "What happened?" he asked.

"The Spawns all suddenly keeled over," Arbohk replied, his neck folding back in on itself, "some shouting for Doctor to stop it, whatever it is you were doing, then they were completely immobile. We were returning to you to see what was happening and we saw Xkitor ascending into the sky, with you hugging his front. Singh took it upon himself to help you."

The Doctor felt his neck and found that there were still tentacles wrapped around it. "Thank you Singh," he said. "What became of Xkitor after I was released."

"He ssscreamed," Lihn said.

"Then he disssappeared in a flasss," Rihn supplied, "and when that disssappeared he was gone."

The Doctor sighed with relief. Xkitor had indeed activated his self destruct as intended, finally the evil that had haunted him since the start of his journeys was dead. And yet he had survived, he had half expected himself to be killed in the process but here he was, alive and well.

"Some are saying he has ran off to the spirit dimension to regroup and lick his wounds," Arbohk said. "He will be back, just like the last time."

"No he won't," the Doctor replied. "He's dead this time, for good. But let them believe he'll return if they want, it will be nice to have at least one false prophecy in the universe." He jumped to his feet. "Casualties?"

"We lossst Ekhan," Singh said.

"And his bottom licker, Rajeev," Rihn added. "That tribe doesn't have a Bok now."

The Doctor looked at Singh carefully. "No one to become Chieftain," he muttered. "Unless you decide to change the rules of course. Singh would make a good Chieftain."

"No, he isssn't a Bok," Lihn exclaimed. "Only a Bok can be Chieftain!"

"Not really up to you is it," the Doctor pointed out. "Not up to me either of course, it was just a suggestion." He turned to walk off but paused briefly. "Oh, and there is the issue of the Thoruxans, you're going to have to sort out your new relationship with them, work out new borders or intermingle." He shrugged and started to walk off again.

"Wait," Arbohk called. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know," the Doctor replied with complete honesty, for once he wasn't tied down to a specific place he needed to get to. "I may go Gumblejack fishing, canoe under Pont d'Arc, sit on a beach of black sand, ski down Olympus Mons, eat a perfectly cooked steak with chips and mayonnaise. It doesn't matter, I'm a free agent again, I can do whatever I like. But I am never coming back to Thoruxa Medio, you are on your own now, don't mess it up."

And with that he turned and strolled away.

* * *

><p>As he wandered back through the town the twelve previous Doctors appeared around him and started to applaud.<p>

"Well done young man," First said with a smile.

"I knew you wouldn't let us down," Clown added, clapping him on the back.

This pattern continued, with each incarnation congratulating him in turn, until they came to the Twelfth Doctor. Previous was the only one not to applaud, he just stared sullenly as at the Doctor, not reacting to any of the others. This was not missed by the Doctor, causing him to not fully appreciate the others.

"Did I displease you?" The Doctor asked.

"What gave you that impression?" Previous asked.

The Doctor indicated the other eleven who were still enthusiastically clapping. Previous shrugged. "You weren't perfect," he said. "You almost died several times with no obvious way to save yourself. It was complete chance that Arbohk chose to reveal his symbol to Xkitor at that moment, and Xkitor may not have reacted in the way he did."

"Yeah, I'll give you that one," the Doctor nodded. "I had completely given up until then."

"And you did faff about with the Commune for a bit long," Previous continued.

"You're nitpicking now," the Doctor complained, "I did still defeat Xkitor didn't I?"

For the first time since he could remember his previous incarnation smiled. "That is true, you did defeat him in the end. Six out of ten."

"Only six?"

"Just my humble opinion," Previous said, "I'm entitled to one as much as anyone else."

The Doctor smirked in amusement. "None of you are real," he said with a giggle, "I'm discussing my adventure with figments of my imagination."

"That is correct," the third Doctor said. "You have indeed gone mad."

"Positively bonkers," Eleven added.

"Life wouldn't be much fun if I was sane though," the Doctor said. He spotted the dwelling where he had hidden with the Thoruxans, a few had come out into the open. His previous incarnations disappeared back into their private domains as he approached them to deliver the same message that he had given to the Salazars.

* * *

><p>"Same thing I said to the Salazars, Xkitor is gone and won't be returning," the Doctor said. "It is now up to you to decide what it is you need to do to fix your society. You can return to your state of shunning the Salazars if you so desire but I wouldn't advise it. The Salazars fought to save you all and you would not be wise to forget that."<p>

Ireenha nodded thoughtfully. "Will you stay and help for a while?" she asked.

"No, Broxa and I are going to leave," he replied.

"But we need you."

"No you don't," he replied, "my work here is done. This is your planet for you to do with as you wish, just don't mess it up." He walked past her before she could say another word and ducked down into the dwelling. "Ready to go home Broxa?"

She looked up at him from the seat she was sat on. "I hear you almost died," she said matter-of-factly.

"That's correct," he nodded.

"If I had been there it wouldn't have happened," she snarled. "What would I have done if you had died? I can't fly the TARDIS, and I'm pretty sure no one else here can."

"But on the plus side you would have finally been able to eat that tongue that you have wanted for so long," the Doctor replied.

"That's not funny!" she shouted leaping to her feet. She tottered for a moment before falling forwards, luckily the Doctor was quick enough to catch her. She looked up at him looking very miserable.

He looked into her eyes and rubbed her cheek tenderly. She winced due to her sunburn. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive," he said simply. "Can you walk at all?"

She shook her head. He nodded and scooped his arm under her legs to lift her up as if she weighed no more than a feather, it still surprised him how small and light she was. "Let's go," he said.

* * *

><p>"Home sweet home," the Doctor said as they came into the street which the TARDIS was in.<p>

It was strange not to see a blue police box after all these years, but on the other hand it would be useful to have a working chameleon circuit once more. It was slightly disconcerting the way it had suddenly fixed itself, however, especially as it did so to take up the shape it had taken on his first adventure. Was his longest serving travelling companion trying to tell him it was time he stopped?

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, no point in dwelling on the past.

"There you are," a voice exclaimed, "I have been waiting for you."

He turned to the source of the voice and found the man who had been with Usahn when they had first arrived. "Waiting for us?" He questioned. "Why?"

"To reopen the brothel of course," Johan replied.

"It isn't a brothel," the Doctor said with a sigh.

"You can deny it all you like," the Thoruxan insisted, "but what else would be hidden inside an old 40s light stick."

"Oh alright, it is a brothel, then," the Doctor sighed.

"Good, can you let me in?" Johan asked hopefully. "I haven't been to a good brothel in ages and if your whore is anything to go by it will be very good."

The Doctor perched Broxa on the base and pulled the key out of his pocket. "Members only I'm afraid," he said with a smirk.

Johan watched as the Doctor opened up the door and helped his female companion through. Not willing to be out done he sprinted for the door and put his hand on it before the Doctor could close it behind him. Pushing his way in he was completely unprepared for the spectacle that confronted him.

"Theta Sigma," he breathed. "It's bigger on the inside."

"Get out!" The Doctor shouted. He roughly manhandled the Thoruxan back out of the door, Johan was too overwhelmed by the sight to put up any resistance.

"How much to become a member?" He shouted back at the Doctor after being deposited on his backside.

The Doctor gave no response, simply slamming the door behind him. A few seconds later the light began to flash in time with the familiar grating noise of the TARDIS dematerialising. A huge gust of wind swirled the sand up causing Johan to cough and splutter, when it calmed the old 40s light stick was nowhere to be seen.

"Usahn's never going to believe this," Johan said eventually, a smile slowly forming on his lips.

* * *

><p><strong>End of Part Seven<strong>

**Author's note: that is the end of this story, just one final chapter to act as an epilogue.**


	55. The End?

He had chosen a Starbucks as their place to meet for a very good reason. It was a busy place that humans liked visit, drink coffee and meet with other humans. He had chosen this one in Seville because of the city's popularity with tourists, nobody would bat an eyelid at three business men coming in for a meeting; and nobody would think anything of the fact that they couldn't understand what they were saying.

Commander 43 fidgeted in his seat out of discomfort, stretching the collar of his shirt as if it were too tight. He may have looked human but it wouldn't be difficult for an expert to realise that he wasn't; luckily most humans weren't experts so he could get away with it. He trained his green eyes on the entrance in anticipation, this was not a meeting that he was looking forward to. There were many aspects of taking human form that detested him, the hair, the lack of limbs, just to name a couple, but it was necessary.

The door opened and in walked two men dressed in dark suits, one was in his late forties and had greying brown hair and beard, the other was much younger with sand coloured hair. They were the two men that Commander 43 had come here to meet.

"You are not drinking anything," the older one observed.

"Sit down," 43 said, ignoring the comment, "we have much to discuss."

"Get me a cappuccino," the older gentleman said to his partner, he turned back to 43. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," he replied as if it were obvious.

"You're sweating terribly," the younger gentlemen said. "I'll get you a frappuccino, cool you down." He went over to the counter before 43 could protest.

He regarded the older gentleman with contempt as he sat down opposite him. "You've gone native," he spat. The two gentlemen had spent a lot more time on Earth than he had and it showed in the ease at which they were able to wear their disguises. And he hated the older one's arrogance as he carried it off.

"There are many aspects of the human character that are to be admired," he replied. "What do you think attracts more attention? A business man casually sipping coffee whilst reading a newspaper, or a man in a suit, shifting about uncontrollably and walking strangely."

And he is so smug, 43 thought, well he won't be laughing once I am done with him. He fingered the revolver hidden in his jacket again, for when the gentlemen refused his proposal.

The younger one returned with the drinks, placing a frappuccino by 43's side, handing the older gentleman his drink and pulling up a chair next to him. They took a sip in unison, 43 scowling at this action out of distaste.

"So," the younger gentleman said, "what news from the home world?"

"Treaties are being written up, economies are being crippled, as per the manifesto," 43 listed, "we are officially aiding the Kroagunns in their war, but that isn't why we are here. We are here to talk about our efforts here on Earth."

"Oh yes, and how have things been for you?" The younger gentleman asked. "I saw that Chinese missile that destroyed that satellite, that looks promising."

"That depends on the political situation though, doesn't it," the older one pointed out. "Not much use if we don't have control of the group who's wielding it."

"Hiroshima all over again," the younger one agreed. "And giving that Bin Laden bloke all that training."

"That was a brilliant idea," 43 bristled, "it's not my fault the Americans decided to piss him off."

"But you could've stopped 11/9," the younger one pointed out.

"They call it 9/11 actually," his colleague corrected.

"Really? Why?" The younger one questioned. "It didn't happen on the ninth of November."

"No," he agreed, "but the Americans do their dates the wrong way round."

"We are not here to talk about my efforts," 43 shouted. Quieter he said: "I'm more interested in you and your mission to take control of UNIT."

The gentlemen looked at one another uncomfortably. "We did exactly what was planned," the elder growled. "We forced the old man to sign all the power over to us and our puppet committee."

"And yet it is still not under our control," 43 said smugly.

"Well technically UNIT as an organisation doesn't exist anymore," the younger added.

"As I understand it," 43 continued, "UNIT hasn't existed as an organisation for several years. You managed to wrestle control of nothing, a bunch of out of date shares of no value." He smirked at their expressions. "And you tried to claim that my efforts were bad."

"That wasn't our fault!" the older gentleman shouted. "I suppose you knew that all of UNIT's power had been signed away to Torchwood and that Lethbridge-Stewart was simply waiting for us to gain control so that he could reveal it and put us back to square one."

"No," 43 agreed, "no one could have predicted that. No one can predict the Doctor's involvement."

"The Doctor," the younger gentleman said, "always the Doctor."

"Whatever happens he will always be there to protect this little planet," 43 nodded.

"He must be eliminated," the older gentleman growled. "But how? He seems untouchable, the Silence trapped him in a fixed point, the Daleks shot him, and the Time Lords had him executed. Yet he lives on and they are all gone, even Sundew could not effectively deal with him."

"If he understood our cause-" his colleague began.

"He will never support our cause," the older man spat. "He is a self-righteous old fool, he would pity a Cyberman if it had vowed an oath of pacifism."

43 fingered the revolver once more. Now for the moment of truth. "There is one thing that could be done that neither of you have considered," he said nonchalantly.

"You have a plan to kill the Doctor?" the older gentleman raised his eyebrows.

"Not exactly," 43 replied. "It more refers to our entire scheme."

"Go on," the younger gentleman said.

43 paused to make certain that what he said next had the greatest impact. "We stop," he said.

The gentlemen frowned deeply. "We stop?" the elder questioned.

"The campaign has been plagued with failure," 43 continued. "Even without the Doctor's interference the human race has a knack for getting itself out of trouble, twisting events to their own advantage, getting wound up for the wrong reasons."

"You're saying we should leave Earth to its own devices?" the younger gentleman questioned.

"In part, yes," 43 nodded. They were not going to like the next bit. "But, overall, I am saying that we should put the whole campaign on hold."

There was no restrained reaction this time, both gentlemen gasped in shock, the younger one recoiled as if the very suggestion would form itself into a monster that would crawl across the table to bite his head off, the elder pounded his fist on the table in anger.

"You're suggesting treason," he roared, causing everyone in the room to stop and stare.

"Hold on," the younger said more calmly, "when you say put it on hold do you mean for it to be suspended until such a time when it is appropriate to resume?"

"Not exactly," 43 tightened his grip on the revolver, if he was a good judge of character he would have to use it soon. "We should cease in all manipulation of alien cultures indefinitely."

"You want us to stop the work that will secure our future?" the older gentleman growled.

"Will it really?" 43 questioned. "As far as I can tell we are pretty secure as we are. Victors in the great war with our great foes, them completely at our mercy. We are at peace for the first time in... well, who knows how long, and we are going around getting ready for the next one."

"They will not be satisfied with defeat," the older gentleman snarled, "they will be back, bigger and stronger and more violent than ever before. The war will never truly be over, this is merely a short break in violence to allow both sides to build up troops before the conflict reignites."

"I appreciate what you are saying," the younger said, "but peace is not something that will ever happen between our two races."

"Earth will not fall under our whims, and if this miserable little planet can withstand us then what will stop others from doing the same?" 43 insisted. "A planet with no defence against attack from space, yet it has outlasted the great space races from Mars and Zygor and..."

"We have the Valiant," the younger gentleman pointed out.

"That's one ship," 43 scoffed. "I seriously doubt that the Valiant would ever be able to stand up to a genuine invasion fleet."

"It doesn't really matter what you think though, does it," the older gentleman growled. "The home world will not change its policy based on the beliefs of a commander."

"They will listen," 43 vowed, "once all the work stops they will listen."

"So," the younger gentleman tried to get his head round what he was being told, "you are proposing an uprising of all agents around the universe against the home world?"

"It will not work," the older gentleman said, "people won't follow you. We would never betray the home world for a lowly commander such as yourself."

"You would be surprised," 43 said. "It's amazing how much respect strength can gain you."

The younger gentleman looked at his colleague nervously, the older one remained impassive. "Did you think we would be powerless?" he asked. "Did you think that by forcing us to remain in human form we would be forced to bow to your wishes?"

"Even humans can wield great power," 43 said darkly. The older gentleman was quite heavily built, it was quite obvious, even to he who was not an expert on human biology, who would win if it turned into a fist fight, that was why he had brought the revolver. "No, I was thinking that this would keep us all honest."

"What exactly are you hiding in your pocket then?" the elder asked.

"That depends," 43 said.

"Depends on what?" the younger asked nervously.

"Are you willing to stand with me, or are you against me?"

The older gentleman stood up and arrogantly held out his arms as if to demonstrate he was unarmed. "Shoot me then," he challenged.

A small part of 43 urged him to remain cautious, urged him to realise that this was some sort of trick, but his dominant side wouldn't listen. He had longed to rid himself of this arrogant upstart for years, and now he had the perfect excuse. If the gentlemen wouldn't join him, then they would die. Him pulled out the revolver, causing a gasp around the cafe, pointed it at the older gentleman's chest and fired.

The bullet spun through the air on its lethal trajectory, certain to strike the gentleman but suddenly stopped. An arc of green electricity shot out of the gentleman's chest and struck the bullet, holding it motionless in the air until it was incinerated. 43 stared at this display with horror, there was no mistaking where that energy had come from.

"That's not possible," he breathed. "You're in human form, you cannot..."

"You mean you can't?" the younger gentleman interrupted.

"We have been taking this form for years," the elder drawled, "as you get better at handling the human form you can concentrate your efforts on restoring your natural abilities, it takes practice but eventually you get it. Did you never learn about Scout 469?"

43 fired again but the same thing happened. "You can't be doing this! This isn't fair!" he turned and fired a shot at the younger man but he brought up his hand to fire a bolt of green lightning to deflect it.

"The campaign will continue," the elder mocked. "And when the hot war reignites the infidels will be destroyed, once and for all."

"War monger!" 43 shouted. "I'll not stand by and let you do this!"

His trump card had been completely neutered, he now was the one on the back foot. But while they retained some of their powers in human form, they would be no match for him in his true form. He growled and started to glow green, bright green light exploded from his eyes, his mouth started to shrink and thin tentacles started to sprout from his upper lip.

"Too slow," the younger gentleman taunted. He stood up and fired a powerful blast of green electricity out of his hand.

The electricity coursed through 43's body causing the green glow his body had taken to take on a bluish tinge. He screamed in pain and was forced to take a step back. He put his half transformed hands on his head for a few seconds, in an attempt to soothe the pain, before pulling them away with a roar. He pointed a long spindly finger at the younger gentleman and took a couple of stuttering steps towards him. He was thrown backwards again as another blast of energy hit him in the chest; this time being hurled by the older gentleman. He screamed again and again, unable to fight through the pain this time, crouching to the ground and staring pleadingly at the older gentleman. The older gentleman returned this look with a cold smirk and fired another bolt from his other hand. Commander 43 screamed at the sky and then he caught fire. The gentlemen ceased their attack allowing 43 to incinerate on his own.

The Starbucks had completely emptied by now leaving the gentlemen alone to regard the scorched carpet where their former colleague had died.

"So what do we do now?" The younger gentleman wondered.

"We carry on," his colleague answered, "as planned. Pick up on his shoddy work, sort out the UNIT catastrophe, and warn the home world of his little uprising; it is likely that he wasn't alone."

The younger gentleman looked down at the scorched carpet again. "What if he was right?"

He was grabbed by his collar and lifted up so that his eyes were level with his older colleague's. "Listen to me, they are cruel, brutal and savage. You know that they would be doing the same had they won and we had been defeated. Had we lost wouldn't we be eagerly awaiting the chance to get our revenge?" The younger gentleman allowed the arguments to sink in. "It's better this way," the older one said softly.

"You're right," the younger gentleman nodded. "They'll restart the war given half the chance."

The elder smiled, lowered his colleague to the ground and patted him on the back. "We must be more vigilant than before," he said. "We cannot let the collapse of UNIT happen again. It will be a longer road, with more background research, but it will be more successful as a result."

"And the Doctor?" The younger questioned.

"He will have to be dealt with," the elder said matter-of-factly.

The younger nodded in agreement. "We don't have Sundew this time," he said. "We'll have to rely on expensive freelancers, or..."

"I shall deal with him personally," the elder stated coldly.

"Very well."

They shook hands, allowing weak bolts of green electricity to run across their hands, turned and left, leaving no trace of their visit other than their half drunk coffee cups and 43's untouched frappuccino.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: and so the Long Regeneration finally comes to an end. Thank you so much to all those who have been following me all this way, especially to those who have reviewed. A big thanks to Brownbug and Son of Whitebeard who have reviewed regularly from the start, I would not have been able to finish without your constant feedback. If you haven't reviewed yet, I would very much like to hear from you now.<strong>

**As you can probably guess there are plans to write a sequel and it shouldn't be too long before that comes around, so be sure to look out for that.**

**Until next time, Goodbye. **


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